Hammer to Fall
by J.O. aka TheCatweazle
Summary: A spectacular breakout from prison, a corrupt politician, a criminal mastermind wreaking havoc - and suddenly, everything crumbles. Can Judy and Nick stop the mayhem? Or will they crumble, too? Third part of a trilogy which started with "How to Treat a Festering Wound" and was continued in "Now Your Nightmare Comes to Life."
1. Chapter 1 - Plans

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **It's me, J.O. aka TheCatweazle, back in action after all this time!**

 **I started writing this story more than one-and-a-half years ago, but then several things happened which put it on the shelf for about 17 months. The most important thing was that a different story was occupying my thoughts completely, and I needed to get it finished before being able to return to this one.**

 **The story in question is named "How to Treat a Festering Wound."**

 **It started as a spin-off to this one, explaining a few concepts I had taken for granted when I had begun writing this, but it soon developed a life of its own, expanding way beyond anything I could have imagined at the onset.**

 **It grew so much in fact that I decided to make it a part of a trilogy. This trilogy starts with "Wound," finds its continuation in "Now Your Nightmare Comes to Life" and finally ends with this story, "Hammer to Fall."**

 **While you may be able to follow this story here without reading my previous stories, I strongly suggest you read them first, otherwise you won't understand a sizeable portion of this one. (It's called shameless self-promotion, sweetheart!) For all those who lack the patience to read two stories which, when combined, have a total length of more than 250k+ words, here are a few basic facts you need to know about what happened earlier:**

 **"** **Wound" begins shortly after the arrest of Dawn Bellwether. Judy, Nick, and Bogo go on to discuss her successor, agreeing that Leodore Lionheart, despite having falsely imprisoned several predators, still is the best mammal for the job. Judy, hell-bent on repairing the damage she caused single-pawed during the press conference, convinces Bogo to allow her to appear in front of the press for a second time. There, she goes on to deliver a lengthy speech in which she explains her mistakes and apologizes for them. On top of that, she accuses prey mammals of harassing and even attacking harmless predators, claiming that they were using her mistakes as an excuse to make the lives of predators a living hell. And she suggests that Lionheart might still be the Mayor Zootopia needs.**

 **A series of rather convoluted events follows, which leads to the arrest of four more members of the City Council. Nick plays a vital role in those arrests, since his extensive knowledge of Zootopia and its citizens gives Bogo and the other police officers the tools to enforce the law in a proper way. This in turn motivates Bogo to help Nick get the coveted place at the Zootopia Police Academy, turning the former con-artist into a police officer.**

 **In the end, everything falls into place. Lionheart is freed from prison and becomes Mayor of Zootopia again. Nick enrolls at the ZPA, finishing with top grades to become a police officer, and after some hardship, Judy also finds her place within the ZPD.**

 **And that's where "Nightmare" takes over. Three years have passed since Nick joined the ZPD to team up with Judy. Over time, they became the most successful police team in decades. However, unbeknownst to either of them, both have developed strong feelings for each other. Neither of them dares to tell the other about it, for numerous reasons, among them rules and regulations within the ZPD which state that every officer having an intimate relationship with a co-worker risks being fired and even jail time. (Several people contradicted me during the writing of the story, but it's true: Rules against fraternization exist in real life! Just look at the U.S. military. There also are police forces with similar rules. Even some private companies have fired employees if they got too cozy with co-workers.)**

 **As if this wasn't bad enough, disaster strikes, when Judy contracts myxomatosis, an illness which, while only befalling bunnies, has an insanely high mortality rate. While everybody's hoping against hope that she survives, Nick has a freak accident which causes him to lose his memory of the last five years, meaning he forgets he ever met Judy and left his hustling days behind. He flatly refuses to believe that he had ever been with the ZPD, and nobody can convince Nick otherwise, not even a slowly recovering Judy, which is why the partnership between Nick and Judy effectively comes to an end. Nick returns to his old hustling grounds to resume his previous line of work.**

 **However, after a series of seemingly random encounters, Nick begins to remember bits and pieces, sees himself as a police officer again and realizes that leaving Judy had been a bad idea. He returns to Judy, just as she tried to come to terms with the fact that she had probably lost Nick for good.**

 **Again, as the story comes to its end, everything falls into place. Judy recovers completely, and Nick regains his memories. And both finally act on their feelings, spending the night together and scent-marking each other as mates-for-life.**

 **Now, what does that mean for our favorite couple? Well, let's find out, shall we?**

 **Just so you know, this summary is very concise and doesn't do the stories much justice. (When taking the standard layout for novels in the western hemisphere into account, both stories combined would make for a novel of some 800+ pages. Condensing this into less than fifty lines is bound to leave a few casualties along the way.) For example, there's more to Chief Bogo than we've known before, and this fact comes into play in this story. And what about Finnick? Who is Vivian? Who the h-e-double hockey sticks is Rocky? What's the story behind Major Mastiff? You wanna know more? Read my other stories. I honestly don't wanna blow my own trumpet too much here, so I only say this: If the reviews they received are any indication, they're at least a worthwhile read.**

 **This story firmly fits into the "Drama/Romance" section, and I have given it a T rating for some gruesome imagery and violence, and an eclectic assortment of four-letter words. There will be death, and it won't be exactly rare - mostly original characters, but one character from the movie will also be killed, a character who played a vital role actually. There will be a bit of fluff, but it's not the main focus of the story by any stretch of imagination. It's Drama first, with Romance being a distant second.**

 **And just so you get a feeling for the scope of this thingy: Right now, I am planning for some fifty-plus chapters, maybe even more - and if the story spins out of control again, like my stories usually do (just look at "Wound"), I can even imagine a scenario of more than 80 chapters! Let's just see where we'll end up, shall we?**

 **Another quick word on updates/new chapters: My first story, which was "Nightmare," consisted of 19 chapters, and I completed it in about three weeks. And it shows. I'm still fiddling with the thing, making changes and correcting errors I made due to the frantic pace in which I have written it. (After a last round of edits, I think it's finally as complete as I can make it.)**

 **"** **Wound," on the other hand, took more than a year to complete. There were several events in my life which forced me into lengthy hiatuses (both my father and my father-in-law died, one of our bunnies also succumbed to cancer, and a lot of work needed to be done on top of that), and the story itself proved to be much harder to write as I had anticipated. Plus it expanded way beyond anything … but I've said that before, haven't I?**

 **This means this story wasn't updated in over a year, and it will take me a lot of time until it can finally be called complete. I won't be able to deliver a new chapter a day - there will be periods of inactivity ranging between days and weeks. Although I hope there will be no more lengthy hiatuses in the future. 2017 hasn't been exactly kind to me. I hope 2018 will allow me to continue writing unimpeded, because I wanna be done before the year is out. I wouldn't count on it though …**

 **I also gave the first ten chapters I wrote of this before I embarked on writing "Wound" an extensive round of proofreading. "Wound" in particular ripped a few sizeable plot holes in this story which I need to take care of before I can finally continue with this. This includes everything, both the story as well as the author's notes. Those will remain as they were, mostly, particularly in regards of the stats, but sometimes I just felt the need for some additions or corrections.**

 **Disclaimer: The movie "Zootopia" and everything depicted therein belongs to Walt Disney Pictures/Walt Disney Animation Studios, copyrighted in 2016. I own nothing of it. I merely use their intellectual property for my own, sinister purposes, i.e. my own enjoyment. Please don't hold it against me! The state of my finances doesn't allow me to fight a lengthy lawsuit! (I mean, if everyone who read my other stories would give me one dollar, my financial worries would be much lessened. Just so you know, they were viewed a combined number of more than 120,000 times, got a grand total of 548 reviews, 427 favorites and 471 alerts - so far! Not bad, eh? Even this story sits, by the time I'm writing this, at some 18,800 views, 112 reviews, 123 favorites and 198 alerts. Thanks to all of you for sticking with me through all this!)**

 **And just so you know, just as it was with "Nightmare," this story's title is borrowed from a song, this time from one by a certain band called Queen. The song's named "Hammer to Fall," written by Brian May and published in 1984 on the album "The Works" by EMI and Capitol.**

 **So, let's get crackin'!**

* * *

Chapter One

 **Plans**

 _Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans._

John Lennon: "Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)," (Music and Lyrics: John Lennon, from the album "Double Fantasy," Geffen, 1980)

* * *

Foxes are shifty and untrustworthy.

Judy Hopps had no idea how often she had heard that sentence, nor how many mammals had given her this piece of advice. Her father, of course, had been on the forefront of those telling her to be cautious around foxes. But at the end of the day, the fact that foxes were not to be trusted was little more than everyday wisdom.

And no mammal represented this piece of wisdom better than Gideon Grey.

For a red fox of just nine years of age, he was quite tall, and the girth he was throwing around dwarfed all members of his peer group, even the other mammals he kept around. Which wouldn't have been a problem, if not for the fact that he also was a bully.

Hardly a day went by when Gideon wasn't up to his elbows in some bullying shenanigans. His track record at school was atrocious, so bad in fact that there was no mammal willing and able to stand up to him. Even the bigger mammals like the Catmulls, a family of cougars living near Judy's home, had learned to give Gideon a wide berth.

But when you want to become a police officer, standing up to bullies comes natural.

"Hey! You heard her, cut it out!" Judy left her cover behind the tree and walked up to Gideon.

Travis, Gideon's ferret friend, winced and jumped behind Gideon into cover. Gideon, however, seemed to be unimpressed by Judy. No surprise there - compared to the bunny, he was easily twice as tall and four times as massive. "Nice costume, loser! What crazy world are you livin' in where you think a bunny can be a cop?" He gave her a most malicious smirk.

Judy opened her mouth to tell him to return the tickets to his friends, when all of a sudden another voice spoke up: "You know, Gid, that's not the most crazy thing about this world."

Judy wheeled around. There was another mammal standing near, in the shadow of a nearby tree, leaning against the trunk with a relaxed posture. His face was completely obscured; the only thing Judy was able to make out was that he was even taller than Gideon, but much less massive. The unknown mammal continued: "The most crazy thing in this world by far and away is that there still are foxes around who have nothing better to do with their time than to bully other mammals. No wonder most mammals hold foxes in such a low esteem."

"Who're you?" Gideon asked with a threatening voice.

The other mammal chuckled. "You know perfectly well who I am! And you also know why I'm here. So, I strongly suggest you return the tickets to their rightful owners, like now." The mammal stood upright and took a few steps forward, stepping into the sunlight.

And to Judy's surprise, the mammal turned out to be another red fox.

Not only that, but he was also wearing the uniform of a police officer!

Gideon's eyes widened, shrinking back. It was obvious that he knew the other fox. Travis had obviously decided that his presence was no longer needed - he was nowhere to be found.

The other fox approached Gideon, towering over him. He was easily one foot taller than Gideon and of slender and athletic build. His age was difficult to determine, but Judy wouldn't have been surprised if he was almost as old as her parents. With a quick flick of his wrist he took the tickets out of the breast pocket of Gideon's overall. "You know, I'm sick and tired of running after you, making everything right that you do wrong. Stealing is a _crime_ , Gideon! Yes, it's only a few tickets, and yes, maybe they aren't worth a dime, still they _don't_ belong to you, so you have _no right_ to take them by force. Do I really need to hammer this into your thick skull by force?"

Judy was witness to a first: Gideon was afraid! No, _afraid_ was to weak a word. He was in _mortal terror_!

Which was somewhat surprising, all things considered. The other fox was an adult and probably much stronger than even Gideon was, but he hadn't uttered even one threatening word. He was just calm and collected. As far as Judy was able to tell, Gideon was in no danger of being harmed in any way.

Yet there he was, shaking in barely suppressed fear.

Judy should have been afraid of the adult fox, too. After all, _foxes are shifty and untrustworthy_.

But she wasn't.

The fox obviously wanted to help her friends. He had stood up to Gideon.

 _And_ he was a cop!

 _And_ he looked _drop-dead gorgeous_!

There was a silky sheen to his fur, his face showed a genuine smile, showing his fangs in a completely non-threatening way. His tail was long and _very_ fluffy. To say that his uniform became him was the mother of all understatements. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, but somehow Judy was certain that the color of his eyes would be the most breathtakingly beautiful emerald.

"Go, Gideon, right now, before I change my mind about punishing you! And just so you know, the next time I need to right your wrongs, your parents and I will have a little chat, and believe me, you will not like the outcome of that chat very much. Now, get lost." When Gideon made no move, the fox cop added: "While we're young, Gid!"

Gideon seemed to wake out of his stupor. He turned around and fled the scene like a mammal possessed.

The other fox heaved a sigh, shaking his head, then he turned towards Judy's friends. "These are yours, I presume," he said, handing them their tickets. Her friends uttered a few words of thanks which sounded quite incredulous to Judy.

Just as incredulous as Judy was feeling.

A fox had stood up to a bully.

A fox had prevented a crime.

A fox had become a police officer.

He turned towards her, looking down at her with a friendly smile. "I'm impressed, Junior Officer! Standing up to a bully twice as tall as yourself takes a lot of guts."

Judy puffed out her chest. "Thank you, Officer!"

The fox chuckled, holding out his paw. "It's always nice to get to know other officers. Sergeant Nicholas Wilde, Zootopia Police Department, Precinct One."

"Judy Hopps, eh, uhm, Hopps Family Farm." She shook his paw.

His eyes widened as he took of his sunglasses. Yep, breathtakingly beautiful emerald eyes. "So you belong to the family growing those awesome blueberries?"

Judy had the peculiar feeling of drowning in his eyes. She took a deep breath. "You like 'em?" she said, trying her hardest to sound casual.

Wilde grinned. "Do I like 'em? No, no, I don't." He made a pause. "I LOVE 'em!"

"I could fetch you some," Judy said quickly.

"I like you already, Carrots," Wilde said, and to her astonishment, he knelt down and hugged her.

And before she knew it, the fox had planted a kiss on her lips.

A kiss which seemed to last a lifetime.

A kiss during which nine-year-old Judy grew into 28-year-old Judy.

A kiss which set every nerve ending, every fiber of her being, on fire.

The shifty, untrustworthy fox.

The love of her life!

Standing so close to him, kissing him, made her feel really hot.

It was just perfect …

* * *

 _If not for the splitting headache._

When you are a lightweight like Judy Hopps, emptying almost an entire bottle of apple cider is bound to leave you with a fiercely throbbing head.

Judy groaned, the last remnants of her dream leaving her quickly. It had been a good dream, one of her favorites, her fox friend standing up to the bully Gideon Grey. It was complete nonsense, of course, like most dreams she had, still it was a nice image she liked very much.

It didn't help her in her current situation, though.

Her head felt like it was going to explode, her mouth was parched, and she felt incredibly hot, despite the fact that she had obviously discarded her blanket at one point during the night, as it was lying on the floor in front of her bed.

Still, she had the feeling of being covered in a blanket.

A very soft and very fluffy blanket.

Her whole backside felt unbelievably warm.

As if someone …

 _Wait, WHAT?_

She opened her eyes, slowly.

Looking down, she noticed two things.

One, she was stark naked.

Two, a big, red, fluffy tail covered her almost completely.

 _OH! MY! GOD!_

 _This can't be happening to me!_

Slowly, cautiously, she reached down with her paw, feeling her crotch.

It was hot, wet, and sticky, the fur matted by some … fluids.

She closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe slowly, trying her hardest to fight the panic that threatened to overwhelm her.

A task not made easier by the fact that certain parts of fox anatomy were resting against her butt, caressing her with every tiny movement of the mammal spooning her.

Her nose picked up an overwhelming scent. _His_ scent.

He had scent-marked her. He had marked her as _his mate-for-life_!

She had marked _him_ as _her mate-for-life!_

And they had … _done what bunnies are most famous for!_

Which obviously meant that they had created heaps of problems for themselves. Her life as a police officer, her professional career, was most likely over.

Well, maybe not _her_ career, but his.

Had he really told her yesterday, amidst all this hormone-induced insanity, that he was willing to give up his job to be with her?

She had gained a life-mate, but maybe she'd lost her partner along the way.

Would it be better that way? Worse that way? Judy had no clue.

Being his life-mate and still working together as partners-in-crime, or rather partners-in-law, would of course still be her preferred choice, but she doubted Chief Bogo would play along.

After all, rules are rules.

By choosing to mate with him, Judy may very well have ended his career and their partnership.

Of course she was always able to blame it on the alcohol. Or temporary insanity. Or …

 _Who am I kiddin'?_

 _I love this fox!_

 _I've loved him for years!_

 _"_ _You know you love me."_

 _"_ _Do I know that? Yes, yes, I do."_

Everybody at the ZPD had heard them exchange these sentences countless times. She had always believed it to be little more than harmless banter.

Turns out it was all but harmless banter.

Never had been.

 _Be honest with yourself, Judy! You've fallen for him ages ago! You started falling for him when he poured his heart out to you, up in that gondola. After he had saved your career. After he had stood up to Bogo, something you would never have dared to do._

 _And you definitely fell for him the day you pinned that badge to his uniform. When he returned your salute, an honest smile on his face._

They had shared a carrot milkshake afterwards. He had claimed to hate carrots, but had been playing along. _Everything for my dumb bunny_ , he'd said. She had produced two identically colored straws, one for each of them, only to mix them up at one point. Which was when he had simply shrugged and used both to take a sip, announcing afterwards that this had officially been their first kiss.

She had sputtered at him in mock outrage, while a tiny part of her had kept yelling at her to give him the _real_ first official kiss.

And then _she_ had used both straws to take a sip, announcing afterwards that she could do with more of those kisses.

It had taken her more than three years and almost an entire bottle of cider to finally muster the courage to make her bold statement a reality.

They had mated. She had scent-marked him as mate-for-life.

Everybody with a working sense of smell would know immediately what was going on between them.

She had irreversibly, irrefutably, slammed a door shut last night.

And he had played along.

Maybe her alcohol-induced insanity was contagious.

No, it had never been insanity. And alcohol, while probably doing away with parts of her inhibitions, hadn't been that huge a factor either.

She had scent-marked him because she had _wanted_ to do it for a long time.

It was just a culmination of everything that had happened between them over the years.

And if his words of yesterday were any indication, he felt the same way about her.

And this thought made her feel like the happiest mammal on the whole planet.

 _I've done it! Finally! I HAVE DONE IT!_

Years of uncertainty, finally wiped out by the ultimate act of togetherness.

 _I have fallen for a fox! And I've fallen HARD!_

 _And I love it!_

 _I love YOU, my dumb fox!_

Having reached this conclusion, she finally felt able to confront her more pressing problems. Her headache was killing her, and if she wasn't able to reach the bathroom soon, her bladder might make things between her and her lover _really_ awkward.

She had to get up, and quite fast at that!

A quick assessment of her situation, however made it clear that this wasn't an option. She was pretty much buried under red fur attached to a fox much bigger and heavier than she was.

His right arm was lying on her chest, his paw close to her breasts, his right leg was lying on her own, and his whole body was pressed into her backside. His chin was resting on top of her head, between her folded-down ears. It was, a voice inside her head told her, quite the perfect fit. So perfect indeed that there was no way for her to disentangle herself from him. Not without waking him.

Fortunately, the faster breathing behind her told her that this was no longer a problem.

"Good morning, Judy."

Instead of an answer, she groaned.

"Then again," Nick Wilde added in a dry tone, "what's so good about a morning that starts with getting up?"

"Niiiiiiick!"

"What, Fluff? It's not my fault you drank almost an entire bottle of cider."

"I need to go, _bad_!"

"Oops!" He disentangled himself from her at once, and she got down from her bed, quickly donning her pajama which they had thrown from her bed to the floor at some point during the night. She left her room to run over to the bathroom to answer nature's call.

Having done that, she returned to her room at a much more sedate pace. Re-entering her room, she found Nick kneeling in front of her cupboard, putting two pills into a glass and filling it with water.

And Judy watched him doing this in all his nude glory.

He looked simply stunning.

The scrawny con mammal of old had been replaced by a slim, athletic fox, with well-defined muscles in all the right places. He moved with an almost feline grace. More than three years of regular workouts and the hardships of duty had turned the very un-athletic con fox into the epitome of physical fitness.

And when he was smiling like that …

 _Hmmm! Want! Fox! Badly!_

He got up, holding up the glass in which the two pills were fizzing away. "Thought you might want some alka-seltzer."

Judy smiled, taking the glass from him. "I do, thanks. Good thing I bought some after Francine's party."

He shrugged. "I don't need this stuff."

"Of course, my boring fox."

"Boring? Says the bunny who didn't even know the words 'chill out' and 'relax' when I got to know her."

She couldn't help grinning at that. "You know you love me."

He looked down at her, his expression somber. "I think I do."

Standing on her tip-toes, she planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "I know."

He gave her a grin. "I could get used to this." Bowing down, he gave her a kiss between her ears.

Judy sighed. "I could, too," she whispered. "However, I think the next time will contain less alcohol."

Nick chuckled. "That's what you get for polishing off an entire bottle of cider."

She snorted. "Don't remind me. Ugh!" She looked at the almost empty bottle standing on her desk. "Stupid, really."

"Can't disagree with you there, Carrots."

She nodded. She had rarely seen Nick drink alcohol. Two tiny glasses of beer at most, that was it. And now that she knew his father's story, she knew why he usually stayed sober. "Maybe I should take a leaf out of your book, Nick."

"You definitely should. Too much alcohol doesn't solve problems, it creates problems."

Judy sighed. "Yep. Learned that the hard way yesterday." She emptied the glass quickly, finishing with a small burp.

Nick grinned. "Manners, Fluff!

She stuck her tongue out. "My apartment, my rules. My awful behavior."

He looked around. "Right. Your shoebox."

She put down the glass on her cupboard, then she looked at him, letting her gaze wander over his naked body.

 _Yeah! Hmmm!_

Nick looked down at her, a smile on his muzzle. "You're _waaaayyyy_ overdressed, Carrots."

She looked down at herself, at her rather bland pajama. "Looks like I am." She looked up again, grinning. "Wanna do something about this?"

He shrugged. "Well, I could get dressed …"

She chuckled, giving his upper arm a light punch. "Don't you dare!"

He chuckled, too. "So you like what you see?"

She put on a thoughtful expression. "Do I like it? No, no, I don't." She made a pause, looking into his face which looked quite crestfallen all of a sudden. "I LOVE it!"

He grinned. "Yeah, I know, it's called a hustle, sweetheart!" He approached her, taking her into his embrace. She snuggled into him, putting her arms around his waist. "I love you, Judy," he whispered.

"I love you, Nick," she said.

He disentangled from her and knelt down. His paws found their way under her pajama, caressing her tummy, pushing her pajama top up, freeing her breasts. Gently massaging them, he said: "Wanna continue where we left off yesterday?"

Judy closed her eyes, breathing heavily. "I … I don't … think I have … a choice," she said, then she gasped in response to his TLC. Bringing her paws down to what made him a reynard, her caresses caused him to gasp, too.

It was, of course, at this very moment that the disadvantages of living in the Grand Pangolin Arms apartment building became obvious.

"OY, KEEP THE NOISE DOWN OVER THERE! SOME MAMMALS'RE TRYIN' TO SLEEP HERE!"

"Says the mammal who keeps the other occupants here awake at night," Nick retorted immediately.

"HEY, BUCKY, IT'S THE FOX!"

"SHUT UP, PRONG! SO IT'S THE FOX! BIG DEAL! HE STAYS HERE EVERY OTHER NIGHT, IN CASE YOU DIDN'T KNOW. NOW SHUT YOUR PIE-HOLE AND LET ME SLEEP!"

"NO, YOU SHUT UP!"

"YOU SHUT UP!"

Nick sighed. "How can you stand it?"

She shrugged. "You get used to it."

"I doubt it. Honestly, you ever thought about moving?"

She sighed. "I did, but it's just so expensive in Zootopia."

"No kidding!" He put his arms around her. "Well, maybe we can find something together."

She smiled at him. "So you want me to stay around?"

His expression suddenly became serious. "Well, I don't know about rabbits, but when foxes mate, they mate _for life_." He put on his usual smirk. "And since this is a really serious commitment, at least to foxes, I guess you'll be stuck with me for the foreseeable future."

She couldn't help grinning at that. "I think I could get used to it." She leaned into his embrace. "Bunnies mate for life, too, you know."

Nick chuckled. "Judy, you just made me a very happy camper."

Judy chuckled, too, looking around. "I don't see any tents here." She disentangled from him and looked down. "Other than the tent between your legs."

"Uh, Judy, that would be the case if I were … _excited_ and wearing trousers, but as you can see, I'm naked."

"PRONG, DID YOU HEAR THAT? THE FOX IS NAKED AND IN HER ROOM!"

"HEY, HE FINALLY DID THE BUNNY!"

"'BOUT FUCKIN' TIME!"

Nick sighed. "That does it!" He stepped away from Judy, approached the wall and banged against it. "IF YOU TWO DON'T PIPE DOWN THIS INSTANT, I'LL HAVE TO ARREST YOU FOR DISTURBING THE PEACE!" He turned towards Judy, shaking his head. "Those two really know how to kill the mood."

She shrugged. "What do you expect in this building?"

"A bit of peace and quiet for a change." He shook his head. "You definitely need to move out."

"I know." She smiled. "My next project."

He shook his head. " _Our_ next project." Then he sighed. "But there are a few things we need to take care of first."

"Yes. We need to talk to Bogo."

"Of course. Let's see if the old softy will let me back in."

"You don't think so?"

Nick shrugged. "Well, given the fact that we broke the non-fraternization rules, I'm not sure."

"Who knows? At least you have your memories back."

"Yeah. I hope so, at least."

"You're not sure?"

"Carrots, I've 36 years' worth of memories. That's a _lot_. I have no idea if I got them all back."

She smiled. "At least you remember me. That's good enough for me."

Nick smiled, taking her into another embrace. "Oh yes, I do remember you, my sly bunny!"

"I guess we should visit Dr. Pawson first."

"You're right. I need that medical clearance."

"So, hospital first, then Bogo?"

He shook his head. "We're off duty till Monday. We can go there tomorrow. First, I have bigger fish to fry."

"Like what?"

He took a deep breath. "Visit my mom."

Judy smiled. "Tell her you mated with some dumb bunny?"

Nick had to grin at that. "Yes, there's that … I also want to tell her that I have my memories back."

"She'll be ecstatic to hear that."

"I hope so."

"She'll be. Right now, that's all she wants."

Nick said nothing for a few seconds. "Right, you talked to her."

"Yep. She told me everything, Nick." Her paws reached around him, coming to rest on his back, searching for scars. There was one, a quite long one too, and she was able to feel another one. "How many are there?"

Nick sighed. "Seven."

Her paw kept searching for further scars from this display of fatherly abuse. "Why did you hide them?"

Nick shrugged. "I didn't necessarily hide them - my fur does this for me. I just see to it that the topic never comes up."

Judy nodded. "You can tell me things like these."

"I will." Nick gave her a smile. "You're my life-mate, after all."

"Great. Oh, and by the way, my parents invited me to visit them on the weekend."

"They did?"

"Yeah." She put on a bashful smile. "I called them yesterday, before you returned to me, and they told me I should visit them to 'get over you.'" Her smile became strained. "Now I need to somehow tell them that I mated with a fox."

Nick placed his paw on her nose, moving it up, between her ears and down the back of her head. He knew from experience that this was the perfect way to calm her down. She closed her eyes and purred silently in contentment. "Don't worry, Judy, it'll work out," he said.

She opened one eye. "You sure?"

"One hundred percent. Just as it'll work out with my mom."

Judy nodded. "I know. She told me to, and I quote, 'make this fox yours.'"

Nick grinned. "That's my mom for you."

Judy closed her eye again, enjoying his tender strokes. "You said the exact same thing yesterday."

"I know."

Judy sighed. "Okay. To your mom it is."

Nick grinned. "Let's get going?"

"Let's get going." She took him into one a last embrace. "Last one to the showers is a rotten egg!"

They enjoyed the rest of the morning together, the shower, the breakfast, the kisses and caresses along the way.

Life was good.

Of course, good things like these never last …

* * *

 **I guess after the emotional turmoil that was "Now Your Nightmare Comes to Life," you earned yourselves a bit of fluff! Don't worry, I won't make a habit out of it! ;-) Next chapter will be a complete change in tone and scenery.**

 **Oh, and another bit of bunny lore: When a bunny produces a soft chattering sound with its teeth (commonly called "purring," although this is a misnomer), it is very content. (Not to be confused with gnashing of teeth, a surprisingly loud grinding sound, which usually indicates that the bunny is not feeling well, i.e. in distress or pain.) The easiest way to make a bunny purr is to pet them in the aforementioned way: starting with the nose, between their eyes, over their forehead and ears and down their back. When the bunny likes you, it will purr almost instantly. You have to take it slow, however - a bunny may mistake fast movements for attacks, since most are far-sighted and cannot recognize objects at a close distance. Any fast movement might trigger their flight impulse. (Their eyes are specifically designed by Mother Nature to be able to spot predators from afar. They're almost useless when things are close and personal. They also cannot distinguish colors all that well. About the only thing they have is a field of vision of almost 360 degrees. So, take it slow around rabbits!)**

 **So much for the first chapter! Please let me know what you think of this! (In other words, send me your reviews!)**

 **And thanks for reading!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	2. Chapter 2 - 6655321 on the Run

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **My second real story was off to a great start! More than 500 views, 15 reviews, 39 favorites and 64 alerts sound more than impressive to me!**

 **Thanks for the reviews and words of encouragement by ejmoya11, Galaxyexplorer74, LivingShadow13, dariusjio, Trooper9099, hpalex13, DaniChibari, Bukoya, ChaosWolfy, and Dirtkid123. And yes, Rhodanos, you're quite right: I think fluff and smiles will be in quite short supply over the course of this story. Is it going to be an uphill battle? Well, not all the time, but the hills they encounter will be very, very steep …**

 **And to both Guest and SecretIdentity: Let it be known to you that it takes as long as it takes - I'm not going to rush things again, like I did with my first story. Even if you're itching for new chapters, I rather want to publish them with as few mistakes as possible, which in turn takes somewhat longer.**

 **Finally, a huge shout goes out to my dear friend, PointyHairedJedi. Please, check out the story named "Pentinence." A truly magnificent effort I like very much. Kudos to you, PointyHairedJedi!**

 **Just so you know, I will answer every review coming my way, and those I cannot answer personally (I'm mostly thinking of Rhodanos, among others, but it's okay), I am going to reply to within my author's notes. I'm also open to suggestions, although the story is, for the most part, completely laid out. I just like getting inspired, and who knows? Maybe I come across an idea too good to throw away!**

 **Speaking of being laid out, because the question came up in one of the reviews, the rough outline I did before starting this indicates the story will be around fifty chapters long (which is bound to change over the course of time), with at least 250k+ words, maybe more, maybe less. As you can see, the scales I am going for are pretty big, much bigger than what I achieved with my first story. (I just need to edit this one: Fifty chapters seems like the absolute minimum right now - my best guess is that the story will end up being much bigger …)**

 **And as for the obligatory disclaimer, since I'm too lazy to write what basically amounts to the very same stuff every time, you can find it in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Two

 **6655321 on the Run**

 _I'm breakin' out and headin' home._

AC/DC: "Jailbreak" (Written by Angus Young, Malcolm Young and Bon Scott, from the album "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap," Albert Productions, 1976)

* * *

"Alright, shut up and listen!" The voice of the rhino commanded attention, therefore it took the assembled mammals merely a few seconds before every conversation had ceased.

The massive mammal nodded. "You know the target, you know the plan. Keep in mind that we only need the target. If other mammals escape, all the better - the ensuing chaos will make our exit easier. But our focus has to be on our target, and our target only. Acquire the mammal and get the hell out of dodge! Yes?"

A hippo had raised his hoof. "Sir, how much force do you expect us to use?"

The rhino shrugged. "To be honest, I don't care about bloodshed. Just do what is necessary to acquire the target."

"Even when friends get in the way? You know that a lot of fellow brethren are being held there."

"Well, killing brothers and sisters in the faith may be unfortunate, but you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs. Every mammal dying is just collateral damage. If it makes you feel more comfortable, you can try to avoid casualties, but it won't be held against you if you don't. Further questions?"

The assembled mammals all shook their heads.

"Good. We take off in ten. Check your gear, make sure you have everything, then board the boats!"

* * *

Nobody watching the mammal limp across the exercise yard would have guessed that this little sheep had once been the most powerful mammal in all of Zootopia - if only for three months.

And even those who had known her back then would have been hard-pressed to recognize Dawn Bellwether. For all intents and purposes, the sheep had been reduced to being 6655321. That was her identification number, and that was all she had been referred to since coming here. Dawn Bellwether had all but ceased to exist. Elkatraz had taken care of that.

That's what 1372 days of imprisonment can do to you.

Or rather, 1372 days of imprisonment amongst mammals who despise you. And have no qualms to show you in the most violent way.

Sure, there was a very strict "No-Violence" policy in effect in Elkatraz Municipal Penitentiary, but even the most observant guards were unable to prevent all those small scuffles erupting between inmates out of nowhere.

And sometimes the guards even tended to pointedly look the other way.

This was how Bellwether had lost half of her teeth.

And her left tibia had never been the same after an angry cheetah had mauled it.

The doctors had managed to save her leg, barely, but the damage had been so severe that she had basically been reduced to a cripple. Even climbing stairs had become a laborious process.

Not that anyone had cared about her misfortunes. Even the doctors, despite giving it their best effort to mend her leg, had left her under no misconception: they had only been doing it because it was their job. As far as they had been concerned, she could have bled to death, and they wouldn't have cared all that much.

As far as the system within the prison was concerned, she was on the low end of the food chain, literally. Hardly a day went by without one of the predators threatening to "finally" do her in. Predators who were still incensed at her attempt to let prey rule over predators.

Which was, of course, quite understandable to the common mammal. To Bellwether, however, is was all a huge injustice and proof that the city in which predators were allowed to get what they wanted was on its way down to hell.

And that many prey mammals also treated her with scorn certainly didn't improve things. Even those mammals who had supported her in her attempt to achieve rule over Zootopia offered her no support at all. Most were incensed that they had ended up in prison because she had been duped by Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde.

Every day, she felt as if swimming in a pool full of ravenous sharks.

Nobody was on her side. She was on her own, fighting an uphill battle against a hostile world.

The one thing that kept her going, despite the feeling of being under constant threat to her life, was the thought that she would one day be able to exact revenge.

Revenge on Lionheart. Revenge on Bogo and the ZPD. Revenge on Zootopia as a whole.

And particularly sweet revenge on an annoying gray bunny and an even more annoying red fox.

She had no idea how she would accomplish this feat. Being sentenced to 35 years to life, most of it spent in solitary confinement, meant her chances of ever being able to breathe the fresh air of freedom were miniscule. Particularly because the last few years had heaped at least thirty years' worth of wear and tear on her fragile frame.

Following prison rules, her once lustrous, thick coat was trimmed almost brutally short. (Which, today, was a boon - the rainstorm she was forced to endure by her guards would certainly have ruined her coat otherwise.) Her orange jumpsuit, fitted to her when she came to Elkatraz almost four years ago, was now hanging loosely around her much smaller frame. Just like the other inmates forced to walk around on the exercise yard, she was absolutely drenched and utterly miserable. And every other step forcefully reminded her of her crippled leg - every other step caused excruciating pain, the likes of which she could never have imagined before coming to Elkatraz.

To all casual viewers, she looked down and defeated.

Only a look into her eyes gave her away.

The fire was still there.

Every day she spent plotting her possible escape. She knew there had been a few attempts in the past, all of which had ultimately failed. Hers would not fail.

She just had to survive long enough to find it.

* * *

The wolf sitting in the guard tower overlooking the whole prison compound and the sea around Elkatraz Island was the first one to notice that something was off. Using his binoculars, he confirmed his sighting and pressed the button next to the microphone on his table. "Uhm, sir, Michael here. Seems we have three boats entering the no-ship-zone."

"Any more details?" The voice of the mammal on the other end of the line was calm.

"Well, I guess they came from the Canal District, and their current bearing … they're on their way here."

"Good. Alert the Coast Guard and the ZPD. I'll be with you shortly."

"Should I alert the guards?"

"Not yet. Let's see what we have here first."

"Roger that, sir." The wolf released the button and picked up the phone. He had alerted the Coast Guard of their unannounced visitors and was just in the middle giving the ZPD a call when, true to his word, the warden of Elkatraz Municipal Penitentiary joined him less than two minutes later.

"Report!"

The wolf pointed through the window. "There. Three unidentified small vessels. Speedboats, by the looks of them. And I may be mistaken, but at least two of them are full to the brim with mammals dressed in black." He looked up at his boss. The chital had just shed his antlers two weeks ago, and without them, he looked positively small.

"Looks suspicious enough," the warden said calmly. "Ah. Unless my eyes deceive me, the Coast Guard's just joined the party."

The wolf nodded. His sharp eyes had made out the patrol boat long ago. It was approaching the boats from their port flank, running at full speed, Given the fact that the speedboats were loaded to capacity and not as fast as the engines would have allowed for, the patrol boat was catching up quite quickly. The warden looked down into the exercise yard, at the mammals forced to walk around in absolutely dismal weather. He was quite glad that he was up here and not down there.

Not for long, though.

"Rocket!"

The warden looked up, surprised. He didn't see anything amiss.

The huge explosion engulfing the bow of the patrol boat in flame and destruction, however, registered with him.

"Oh my god!" the wolf shouted. "They have an RPG! I saw the launch!"

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, sir!" Without asking for permission, the wolf brought his paw down on the huge red button. At once, sirens started to blare all over the compound.

It was to be the last thing he ever did.

* * *

It all happened so fast!

One second, Bellwether was wondering why every loudspeaker on the compound had started blaring, the next, an enormously loud bang rent the silence. She looked up in surprise.

Quickly replaced by shock.

The central guard tower overlooking the compound was no more. It had vanished in a cloud of black smoke which was dissipating fast in the gale.

 _What the heck had just happened?_

"Fuck it! They blew up the tower!" an inmate shouted.

"Who?" another asked.

"No idea!"

She heard another boom, and all of a sudden, she felt like an elephant had given her a solid kick in the behind. She was thrown up into the air, and landed in a painful heap some twenty feet away. Gasping and panting, her face contorted into a grimace because of the pain, she turned around.

Just as the second rocket-propelled grenade hit the wall. It blew up in a spectacular fireball, throwing bricks and mortar everywhere. The guards on duty alongside the wall stood no chance of survival. Just like the inmates who had been too close to the blast zone.

The cloud of smoke had hardly dissipated when mammals appeared in the freshly created gap in the wall, dressed in black, with black hoods over their heads and assault rifles in their paws or hooves. There were at least eight of them, probably way more, running into the compound and ruthlessly gunning down guards. They were fast and hugely effective, taking down guards like targets in a shooting gallery.

Soon, the only mammals standing were attackers or inmates.

She looked at the black-clad mammals with a frown. Since they were masked, she had no idea whom she was facing. Only one thing was obvious: Predators were suspiciously lacking in their folds. She saw two rhinos, a few hippos, reindeers, a few smaller mammals. All prey. No predators.

A huge wave of relief flooded her, suppressing the pain from her numerous bruises.

They had finally come for her. It had taken them almost four years, but finally …

Moe had finally sent someone to get her out!

Strangely, however, the mammals seemed to completely ignore her. They were looking for someone, that was obvious, but it seemed like she wasn't among them. She was the only mammal in the vicinity, and despite the fact that she had visibly changed, she was still recognizable as the former mayor of Zootopia.

So she did the only thing she was able to do.

"Hey!" she shouted.

The nearest mammal stopped dead in his tracks. It was a caribou, much taller than she was, and if she guessed correctly, still quite young. He looked down at Bellwether, who was lying in a huge, muddy puddle. "Yeah. What d'ya want?"

His question caught her off-guard. "Wait a second, you didn't …"

She was interrupted by a shout. "Target acquired! Retreat! I repeat: Retreat!"

A sudden thought struck her like a hot knife.

They really hadn't come for her!

The caribou turned around and was about to embark again. "Hey!" she shouted again, getting up from the ground. "Take me with you!"

The young mammals stopped again. "And why should I do that?" he asked without looking at her.

"Because … I was the one who fought for you! For all prey! I was the one …"

He turned around. "Oh, it's _you_!"

"Yeah, it's me! So pick me up and let's go!"

The caribou approached her without another word, picked her up and ran towards the gap, holding her like a parcel. It was uncomfortable, but Bellwether wasn't complaining.

Freedom was finally in her sights.

The caribou climbed over the rubble, clearing the gap effortlessly. Carrying Bellwether didn't seem to slow him down at all. They reached the cliff in no time. She saw three grappling hooks firmly embedded in the cliff face, with thick ropes attached to them. Without hesitating, the caribou jumped down, grabbing the rope with one hoof while still holding Bellwether under the other arm. It was nauseating, still the sheep held her tongue. She didn't dare saying anything, lest she'd distract him - ending up one hundred feet deeper, five feet wider and merely two inches thick was not the way she envisioned her future to be.

Fortunately, the caribou was both quite strong and sure-hoofed. They reached the foot of the cliffs without problems. Bellwether saw three speedboats sitting on the shore. Several black-clad mammals were already sitting in the boats. One huge rhino seemed to supervise the operation. It all looked and sounded like military-style efficiency. Whoever these guys were, they were good.

A hippo approached the rhino, just as the caribou was setting Bellwether down. "Sir, we lost Cervus. Headshot. Saw his brains. No way he survived."

The rhino nodded with a grave impression. "He'll be missed." A tiny pause followed. "Other casualties?"

"No, sir. Caprini took one bullet through the arm, clean exit wound, the bone's intact. Blood loss is negligible, according to Simum. He's takin' care of it."

"Good. Carry on!" The rhino looked at Bellwether, frowning. It was only than that the sheep realized he wasn't wearing a mask. "Tarandus?"

The caribou who had carried Bellwether to freedom stood at attention immediately. "Yes, sir?"

Still eyeing Bellwether, the rhino continued: "Which part of 'we only need our target' did you fail to understand?"

"But sir," the caribou said, "this is …"

"I know who this is," the rhino interrupted him brusquely. "And I don't give a shit. You had your orders."

"But … I thought …"

"You're not paid to _think_ , Tarandus! You're paid to _follow orders_. And where in your orders did it say you were to liberate other mammals, eh?"

The caribou lowered his head. "Sir, uhm …"

"Look at me when I'm talkin' to you!" the rhino hissed.

The caribou's head shot up immediately, looking at the rhino in what can only be described as trepidation. "I'm sorry, sir. I just … thought she'd be important to our cause."

"If she were, don't you think the boss would have told us?" The rhino closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Get outta my sight! We'll talk about this later!"

Bellwether had followed the exchange with her mouth open. Not only hadn't she been the target of the operation, it also sounded an awful lot like liberating her hadn't been part of the plan at all.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"None of your business, cotton!" He took a mobile out of the pocket of his combat suit, activating it. A few seconds later, a male voice answered. "Yes? Did you get him?" The voice sounded quite familiar, yet Bellwether couldn't say for sure if it was Moe.

"We have, sir," the rhino answered.

"Any problems?"

"No, sir. Though we lost Cervus."

The unknown mammal sighed. "That is a damn shame. Lot of promise in the deer."

"Agreed, sir. He'll be missed." The rhino cleared his throat. "We have, however, come across a tiny … hitch."

There was a pause. "A hitch? What kind of hitch?"

"Well, one of my men thought it would be smart to … liberate another mammal."

"Another mammal? Who is it?"

"Dawn Bellwether, sir."

Now the silence took several seconds. Finally, the unknown mammal sighed again. "Bring her to me!"

The rhino nodded. "Right away, sir!"

"And, Wallace?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Good work!"

"Thank you, sir!"

The rhino disconnected and looked around. "Alright, board the boats! Let's blow this pawpsicle stand!" He looked down at Bellwether. "You're coming with me!"

Why did Bellwether suddenly feel like a dead sheep walking?

* * *

 **Who is "Moe?" Is he "the boss?" What's his plan? How does Bellwether fit into this? Stay tuned to learn the answer - after quite a LOOOOOOOT more chapters! ;-)**

 **The chapter ended up being completely different from what I first wanted it to be. After several changes in perspective, it finally became something I was content with. That's me, always tweaking and tinkering.**

 **Just so you know, when Alex, the protagonist of Anthony Burgess's book "A Clockwork Orange," was doing time in prison, he was only known as 6655321. Thought it was fitting for our most devious sheep.**

 **The name of the prison, Elkatraz, is an obvious pun on Alcatraz, an attempt to make the name sound more animalistic. Elk is another name for the wapiti, while in Europe, specifically in British English, the moose is called elk. But as it turns out, I needn't have bothered. Alcatraz is, in itself, a pretty animalistic name - it's a Spanish word meaning pelican.** **(Well, like they say in German: "Da wird man alt wie eine Kuh und lernt doch immer noch dazu."** **Loosely translates to: "Even when being as old as a cow, you're still learning new things.")**

 **Oh, and I almost forgot: RPGs leave no real vapor trail to see. All you get to see is the launch and the explosion on impact. (In case you doubt this, go to YouTube and search for "Mythbusters RPG.")**

 **Thanks for reading, and keep those reviews coming! They make up for the unbearable heat and stuffiness of today's weather. I'm really waiting for that thunderstorm the meteorologists have announced for today! Yeah, Germany, the home of bad weather!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	3. Chapter 3 - Family Bonds

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **Yes, I'm still alive! And I'm very sorry about the delay! But the new school year is around the corner, and my wife, who is a teacher, needed help in preparing her computer for her administrative duties. Since she knows next to nothing about computers, she always relies on me to get her system back into tip-top shape. Which takes time and quite a lot of effort. Add to this a solid general workload and household chores, and you can imagine that I didn't have much free time on my hands over the course of the last two weeks.**

 **The more important reason for the delay, however, is the fact that the following chapter had me stumped!**

 **It started innocently enough, but then I found to my dismay that I wasn't able to stop. I wanted to cram so much into this chapter, it threatened to come apart at the seams. I had to rewrite all of it** ** _four times_** **to keep it together, and I barely managed. The chapter is more than twice as long as envisioned, and it's chock-full of dialogue. If you're looking for action, this isn't for you. It's a slow one, as I still need a build-up for things to come.**

 **Writing this chapter took me what felt like ages. Just when I thought I was done, a new piece of inspiration popped up in my head. And three of those will have a huge impact on the story as it develops. (I won't tell you what those are, just wait and see for yourself!)**

 **And that is sort of a problem for me.**

 **Over the course of the last few days, the whole story has undergone a complete transformation. The stakes had always been high, my aspirations even more so, but now both of them are just friggin' huge! This truly seems to be a story which grows in the telling. And suddenly I have no idea of the size anymore. All I know is, this is promising to increase in epic-ness by the minute. (Edit: After all this time, it has become even more serious …)**

 **You've been warned!**

 **Thanks a bundle to Ash3d, Galaxyexplorer74, DanyChibari, PointyHairedJedi, hpalex13, Rhodanos (Willkommen im Club!), LivingShadow13, Dirtkid123, and Inc1nerous for their reviews.**

 **The stats so far are thus: More than 1200 views, 23 reviews, 47 favorites and 77 alerts. I thought my first story was well-received, but this one is even better! (Stats for my first story are still climbing, despite the fact that it's complete. Right now, it has reached more than 51,600 views, 231 comments, 205 favorites and 240 alerts. Interesting, this!)**

 **And here … we … go!**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Three

 **Family Bonds**

 _Left home at an early age of what I heard was wrong, never asked forgiveness, but what I said is done._

Metallica: "Mama Said" (Written by James Hetfield and Lars Ulrich, from the album "Load," Elektra Records, 1996)

* * *

Emmitt Otterton was in his element. Jumping from here to there, whistling a cheerful tune, he was collecting numerous flowers to arrange them into a bouquet. "Like this?" He held up the bouquet, every inch as big as him, for his customer to evaluate.

"Just perfect, as always, Emmitt," Nick said with a smile.

"Paper or foil?"

"Whatever you think is best."

"You got it. It's another one for your mother, right?"

"It is."

"For her birthday?"

"No, her birthday's in May. Just because."

"I see." Otterton looked over at Judy, who was perusing the different flower arrangements, an eager expression on her face. As the farm girl she had once been, plants and flowers still held a huge fascination for her, and it showed. She looked every bit like a kit in a candy store.

Otterton looked at Nick again. "Pardon me if I'm too forward here, but you want to introduce your new girlfriend to your mother, right?"

Nick smiled. He should have known. Even the shower hadn't managed to do away with their respective scent-markings. "I do."

Otterton smiled. "About time."

Nick looked down at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

The otter tore off a sizeable piece of paper from the dispenser to wrap the bouquet in. "My wife said only yesterday that the two of you belong together."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "You were talking about us _yesterday_?"

"We've been talking about you _for weeks_. Ever since Judy became ill, and especially after you had your accident."

"But how …", Nick paused. "Mr. Big."

"Of course. He told me right away. You've both recovered, I presume?"

"Thankfully, she has, and completely at that. Me … not so sure."

"What do you mean?"

"Amnesia. I _think_ I have all my memories back, but I cannot be certain."

Otterton smiled. "As long as the important memories are there, I wouldn't be too worried."

"I don't think I could call myself worried, I just don't know if I'm missing something."

"Even if you do, it can't be anything important? What's most important to you?"

Nick looked over his shoulder at Judy, who had just taken a champagne-colored rose and placed it at the base of one of her ears, admiring her reflection in the window. "She is. My mom. My job, I guess. My colleagues. The few friends I have."

"And you remember all of those things? Then you're good."

Nick looked back at Otterton. "Maybe you're right and I'm just over-thinking things."

"I'd say you are. How's your mother?"

Nick shrugged. "Fine, I guess. With the kind of ailment she has, every day's a gift."

"Well, at least she has her son back."

Nick smiled. "That she has."

Otterton looked at Judy, who was still engrossed in the display of countless flowers and seemingly oblivious to their conversation - but given her enormous ears and phenomenal sense of hearing, one could never be too sure around her. "She doesn't know that you …," he let the sentence trail off.

Nick had to laugh at that. "No, this is a, ahem, recent development. But she'll be okay with it."

"You sure?"

"I'm certain. My mom told Judy a few weeks ago that she should make this fox, which is _me_ , hers."

"She did? Surprising."

"You think so?"

"Well, you know how it is, Nick. We've both seen our share of prey/pred relationships in the dark alleys and backyards of Zootopia, but as far as the public is concerned, there are none." He made a pause and put the complete bouquet, wrapped in paper, on the counter. "Then again, maybe there would be more if mammals in a mixed relationship start taking it out into public for everyone to see."

Nick made a face. "I don't think the public's ready yet, not with the kind of animosity still rampant between predators and prey."

Otterton sighed. "You're right, sadly. So, you'll want to keep it a secret?"

Nick shrugged. "Don't know if we'll be able to do it. You did smell her on me, right?" Otterton nodded. Nick continued: "If you can do it, others can, too. Most of our pred colleagues will know it the moment we enter the room. Delgato, Fangmeyer and Wolford in particular will be able to smell it at ten paces. I don't know if you can keep something like that a secret. Probably not in our line of work."

"Will there be problems?"

"Probably. Our job doesn't look too kindly on couples. But guess what? I don't give a damn. You only live once, and I've been pining for her for almost four years without even realizing it. Now that I have her, I'm not interested in losing her again. And if that means I need to leave the ZPD, so be it." He gave a grin. "Our big friend in Tundratown would probably be thrilled to hear it if I didn't work for the fuzz anymore."

"Oh, I think he's okay with you being a cop."

"I know. He told me."

"Oh? So you two cleared the air?"

"We did. He acknowledges that I care for Judy, and since he loves her like a daughter, he decided to forgive me and re-invite me into the family. Well, as close to family as you can be while being a cop."

"Good to hear. You were among his favorite accomplices once, Nick."

Suddenly a third voice piped up: "Uh, Emmitt, how much is this?" Both turned around to Judy, who pointed at a white orchid in a simply glass vase. " _Phalaenopsis amabilis_ , right?"

Otterton gave a silent chuckle. "Finally someone who knows her plants! For you, Judy, it's free."

"No way," she said, taking out her purse, but a gesture from Nick stopped her.

"How much for both the orchid and the flowers?" he asked Otterton, opening his wallet.

"Well, the flowers are 42 Dollars, but the orchid's still free, you know."

Nick slapped a Fifty-Dollar-Bill on the counter. "Keep the change, Emmitt."

"Why, thank you!" Otterton took the money.

Judy walked over, orchid in paw, a huge smile on her face. "Thank you, Emmitt, that's too kind of you. Would you please greet your family from me?"

"Of course. And I wish the two of you all the best of luck for your shared future."

To Nick's surprise, she took his comment in stride. "Thank you again." She looked up at Nick. "You good to go? I'm eager to meet your mom."

"Me too." Nick took the enormous bouquet with both paws.

Judy grinned at watching Nick struggle. "Almost as bad as a Jumbo Pop, huh?"

"Jumbo Pops were much worse. This here weighs almost nothing. The Jumbo Pop was almost as heavy as me."

"How did Finnick manage to carry it?"

Nick grinned. "A LOT of training!"

"Training? Finnick _trained_ for the stuff you two did?"

"Finnick did a lot of things you wouldn't believe."

"And probably wouldn't want to know in the first place, right?"

"Right as always, Carrots."

Saying their farewells to Otterton, Nick and Judy left his shop to step out into the street. The torrential downpour of earlier had lessened a bit, still there was more than enough water in the air to thoroughly soak fur and clothing. Fortunately, both had brought umbrellas, which of course meant they weren't able to walk side by side, probably holding paws. But holding paws was out of the question anyway, seeing that their respective paws were full with umbrellas and flowers.

"Should we hail a cab?" Judy asked.

Nick shook his head. "It's just four blocks to my mom's home. We should be able to get there before we get waterlogged."

"I hope so." She looked up at him, grinning. "So, you've been pining for me for almost four years, huh?"

He should have known she would have overheard their conversation. Heaving a mock sigh, he said: "Those ginormous bunny ears will be the death of me yet."

"It's not too late to call it quits," she reminded him.

"My last shot at redemption!" he exclaimed with heaps of pathos in his voice. "Should I take it?" He looked down at Judy. "Nah! Thanks, but no thanks!"

Both had to laugh at that. Nick recovered first. "But to answer your honest question, yes, I think I did pine for you for four years. Without even knowing it, I might add."

"Without knowing it? How comes?"

He shrugged. "I only found out yesterday. When you scent-marked me, when my nose was doused in your scent, everything sort of fell into place You remember our first meeting? Me hustling you, back in Jumbeaux's Café? When you were standing next to me, lecturing the elephant on health code violations, I took in your scent for the first time. This was the moment I was certain that we would be mates one day."

She stared at him, open-mouthed. "You knew?"

"Well, not really. Some tiny part of me knew, has known all along, but the rest of me was slower on the uptake. A _lot_ slower. It was only when the raccoon tried to shoot you that my brain finally caught up with my heart." He looked at Judy, smiling. "I seem to have shocked you senseless right now."

"Huh? Oh, no, not really." She grinned. "I realized just this morning that I probably started to fall for you the day you graduated. Remember the milkshake?"

Nick grinned, too. "Our first kiss."

"Something like that. The point is, a part of me wanted to make it a reality right then and there. And I fought it down." Her grin vanished, and she sighed. "Problem was, fighting became harder by the day. The more time we spent together, the harder it became. And when you took the bullet for me, I was finally and utterly lost."

Nick smiled at her. "Another thing we have in common. All it took was some stupid raccoon high on crack cocaine and a .22. Short bullet to the shoulder."

She stepped closer to him, as close as the umbrellas allowed for. "We could have had it much easier, you know."

"Probably. But easy is for wimps." He gave Judy a smile. "You've never been one for the easy way, right?"

She shrugged. "I'm a bunny. Becoming a police officer was bound to be an uphill struggle. I never had it easy. Neither had you."

Now he shrugged. "Welcome to the club, Fluff. I guess everyone trying to make the world a better place is bound for some hard times."

"You're probably right." She looked back to the direction they had come from, towards Emmitt Otterton's florist shop. "Emmitt was able to smell _me_ on _you_ among all those flowers? Some good nose this otter has."

"Not necessarily. More a reminder of the fact that everyone at Precinct One will know how we spent our time off once we step into the bullpen."

"You sure?"

"Very. You scent-marked me, I took a shower, still he was able to smell you on me from three paces, amongst all the orchids and stuff. Most of our predator co-workers have much better noses and will not be distracted by fragrant flowers. There's no chance in hell we could avoid this."

"Well, there still is musk-mask."

Nick made a face. "I won't use it, if that's what you're asking."

"Why not?"

"Because it will make no difference whatsoever. Say, we enter Precinct One as we are, everybody will know what happened, because they can smell you on me and vice versa. Now, both of us enter the building after having applied copious amounts of musk-mask to ourselves. What kind of a message do we send the others, eh?"

"That we've got something to hide."

"Exactly. Which is _way_ worse than just admitting to it and get it over with. So we can just do without, the outcome will be the same, sans the loss of face. Besides, this stuff _reeks_! I wouldn't use it if my life depended on it."

"That bad?"

"Worse. I used it once for a hustle. It took me three weeks to get rid of the stench. Finnick flatly refused to let me enter his van while smelling like a, and I quote, 'flophouse next to a beer plant.'"

"I see. I think I just decided I prefer smelling you on me."

Nick smiled. "That's the spirit, Carrots!"

Judy returned the smile while noticing that Nick's steps had slowed. She stopped and looked around, seeing a house to their left which looked strangely out-of-place in the neighborhood of shops. "Is _that_ where your mom lives?"

"Yep."

Judy couldn't help feeling surprised. Her first impression was that the house was quite big, much bigger than she would have deemed necessary for a single vixen. The house itself was a two-story bungalow, looking both quite modern and well-tended. Judging from the height of the floors, the interior probably was fox-sized and probably not older than ten years. "Did your mom build this?"

Nick smiled. "No, she didn't, she just showed business savvy. This was built by an African civet who fancied himself a businessmammal. So he opened a shop for shoes and boots. Which is sort of a bad idea as it is, given the fact that a lot of mammals walk on their bare paws or hoofs. However, business was booming at first. And since it was, he obviously thought that living in an apartment building was unbefitting a businessmammal of his size and stature. Consequently, he took out a loan to build this. And as if that wasn't enough, he took out even a few more loans to buy himself a few fancy cars and even a yacht. I guess he was more of a sailsmammal than a salesmammal. Of course it didn't work in the long run. Shoes are pretty much seasonal goods. The weather's bad, you're much more likely to wear shoes than at the height of summer. So business became slow at one point, and given the loans, he was in deep trouble immediately. His shop went belly-up, and he had to file for bankruptcy. His house was one of the things that went into foreclosure. My mom got it for much less than half its market value."

"Wow! So it's hers?"

"It is."

"And you helped her buy it."

He made a pause. "Right, she told you. Yeah, I did, but I didn't know it until I first visited her."

"Must have been strange. You send her money to pay the medical bills, and she uses it to buy a house."

He shrugged. "Well, I sent her much more money than she needed. It isn't strange at all. I'm just happy it worked out that well for her."

"Apart from her cancer."

"Yeah. It sucks, badly!" Nick sighed, then he straightened himself. "But that's life. Sometimes you lose, sometimes the others win."

"Huh?"

Nick smiled. "There's this Gnugandan soccer trainer named Otto Rehhagel, who's famous for saying stuff like that."

"But Nick, it makes no sense."

"It doesn't?"

Judy paused, thinking. "Yes, I guess it does, but only to a pessimist."

"You know what a pessimist is? An optimist with experience."

She laughed, pointing at the door. "Let's go, shall we?"

"Of course, Carrots."

They approached the house, stepping under the awning and closing their umbrellas. Nick approached the door, digit extended towards the bell button, taking a deep breath. "I'm nervous, Judy."

"Why? She's waiting for you."

"Yeah, but given how I treated her over the course of the last few days …"

She placed her paw on his arm, in pretty much the same manner as she did back in the gondola, all this time ago, with the difference that he didn't shake her off. "It's okay, Nick. She knows. She knows why you behaved like you did. It's not your fault."

"I know. Doesn't mean it feels less awkward."

Judy grinned. "Come on, Officer, mammal up!"

Nick had to grin at that, too. "Yes, ma'am." He pressed the bell button.

For a few seconds, nothing happened. Even Judy, with her excellent sense of hearing, was unable to hear any movement behind the door. Then, quite suddenly, she heard pawsteps, and seconds later the door was opened a tiny bit, and a vixen appeared in the gap. Which didn't remain a small gap for longer than a second before she opened the door wide.

"Hi, Mom," Nick said, uncertainty lacing his voice.

To both Nick's and Judy's surprise, Vivian Wilde assumed a nonchalant pose, leaning against the doorframe, taking in Nick and the enormous bouquet. "Finally came 'round, huh?"

Nick's smile vanished in an instant. Whatever he had imagined this meeting to be, this hasn't been among the scenarios. "Uh, well, I … I have my memories back, if that's what you mean."

"That's nice to hear, but that's not what I meant." She pointed at Judy. "Finally came 'round, huh?" she said again.

And suddenly, Nick understood. His mother had been able to pick up his different scent immediately, despite the fact that they were still standing two paces apart. "Yeah, Mom, we mated."

Vivian's mouth split into a wide grin. "Took you long enough. Come here, boy!" She approached Nick and took him into a warm embrace. "Sometimes you are just a big, dumb fox."

"I've been saying this for years," Judy piped in, smiling. The sight of the two foxes, mother and son, in a loving embrace, made her insides feel all warm and fuzzy.

Vivian disentangled herself from Nick, stepped over to Judy and hugged her, too, much to Judy's surprise. "So you took my advice to heart, Judy."

"I did, Vivian."

"I'm happy to hear. The last weeks haven't been exactly easy on you."

Judy sighed while hugging the vixen. "On you, too!"

Vivian chuckled. "Oh, I'm fine. Or rather, as fine as I can be." She grabbed Judy by her shoulders as she broke the hug. And to Judy's surprise, she ran her chin over her head, right between the ears. Judy looked up at Vivian, who smiled at her. "Welcome to the family, Judy."

"Th … Thank you," was all Judy managed to say. Vivian's scent was very similar to Nick's, yet strangely different. Less intense. Subtly sweet. Female. Not as intrusive.

Vivian straightened herself and made an inviting gesture. "Come in, you two! The weather's not all that great for lingering on doorsteps if you ask me."

Judy stepped into the house, looking around. The interior was definitely fox-sized, and the décor was stylish, if a bit austere. There were hardly any pictures along the walls, and even the wallpapers looked rather simple. Whoever had designed the interior had gone for a no-nonsense style focusing on practicability.

No-nonsense. Just like Vivian Wilde.

Nick and Vivian had gone on ahead into another room, and Judy hurried up to follow them. She entered a room which could only have been a kitchen. Nick looked around, bouquet still in hand, looking around. "Why did you refurbish the kitchen? Was something broken? You told me last time you liked the style."

"No, it worked perfectly fine. Vases are there." She pointed at a nondescript cupboard. "But it was civet-sized."

"Yeah, so what? Civets are about as tall as foxes."

"But taller than rabbits."

Nick looked at her in surprise. "Why …," he began, only to stop himself, then his eyes widened. "Mom, is there something you need to tell me?"

Vivian nodded. "I guess you know, Nick."

Nick heaved a sigh. "When did you do this?"

"After I had my little chat with Judy."

"Are you leaving?"

"I am. There's a hospice connected to Zootopia General Hospital. I have a room there already, and it's where I spend my evenings and nights. I came back here every day during daytime to wait for you in case you had come around again."

Judy made a frown. "Sorry, but what are you talking about? What's a hospice?"

Nick heaved a sigh. "A hospice is a home for people who are sure to die. They will be cared for in their last weeks or months."

Judy gasped, looking at Vivian. "Is it …"

Vivian shrugged. "I told you, every day could be my last, Judy. They know how to deal with it, and they help me through the last stage."

"Which in turn means," Nick said in a tone that sounded strangely matter-of-fact, "that this house will be empty. Unless I move in. And," he pointed at the kitchen setup, "as you can see, this kitchen is perfectly sized for a fox … and a bunny."

Judy looked around, surprised. Indeed, it looked like half of the kitchen was the perfect height for foxes, while the other half allowed for bunnies to reach everything. It looked … odd, yet strangely ergonomic. "Uh, Vivian …"

The vixen smiled. "Let's just say I had a premonition. After our little talk, I was sure you wouldn't rest idle until you had him tied to you securely." She reached out to Nick and ruffled the fur on his head. "And in that case, I wanted the two of you to have a place to stay together. I've seen the dumpster my son lives in, and it's no place for a couple. As much as your place isn't, Judy, at least if Nick's to be believed."

Nick snorted. "Judy's apartment isn't so much an apartment but an _elephant's boot_."

"Har har," said Judy.

Vivian continued as if they hadn't spoken. "Since Nick will inherit everything I own anyway, and since I was certain that he would move in here with a bunny in tow, I made several arrangements to make sure you can live here without a fuss. The kitchen was actually completed three days ago. So was the bathroom, and in case you want to sleep in separate bedrooms, one is fox-sized, one is bunny-sized." She gave Judy a smile and a wink. "Although I can understand if you want to share a bedroom."

Judy gasped again. "You want us to move in here?"

"Unless you prefer to stay in your, what was it? Ah yes, your elephant's boot. So unless you want to stay there, yes, I want you to live here."

"That's … unexpected."

"Is it? I told you what will happen to me."

"Yeah, I know, but … I don't want you to die!" To her horror, Judy felt tears welling up in her eyes.

Vivian gave her a smile. "I don't wanna die either, but I guess that's no longer my call to make. At least I can go in peace now. Speaking of which, how did it happen? How did he regain his memories."

Judy shrugged. "I have a little pen in the shape of a carrot. Most mammals don't know that it contains a fully functional voice recorder, which I was able to put to good use numerous times." She smiled. "I even used it against Nick once, to hustle him into helping me. I guess he told you."

"He did. I didn't know the details, he just told me you hustled him good."

"I threatened him with jail time for felony tax evasion. Using his own bragging against him." She tried to put on her best "Nick Wilde" voice: "'I make two hundred bucks a day, Fluff. Three hundred and sixty five days a year since I was twelve.' It was comedy gold when I played the recording. His face was priceless."

Vivian grinned, but refrained from commenting. Even Nick kept quiet. When Judy looked over her shoulder, she found the reason why: After putting the flowers into a vase full of water, he had left the kitchen. Probably to examine the rest of the house they would be moving into.

 _God, this is weird!_

Judy continued aloud: "This carrot pen is very dear to me, and I use it very often. Nick saw me use it almost every other day in some function or another."

Vivian nodded. "So seeing it toggled his memories."

"It did."

"And then you mated."

Judy gave her a sheepish smile. "Yes, we did. But I can say in my defense that I was drunk."

Vivian laughed. "Well, I usually don't approve of drinking alcohol, and neither does Nick. But in this case, I guess the end justifies the means."

Reluctantly, Judy asked: "So, you're okay with us being …"

"Yes, I am, my dear Judy! You two are made for each other. I've known it for two years, ever since Nick told me how he met you, how you made him turn his back on his days as a con-fox, how you made him become a police officer. You are the best that could have happened to him, and if you stay with him, I'll be as content as I can possibly be. You are good for him." She became serious with a suddenness that surprised Judy. "But what will Chief Bogo say?"

Judy shrugged. "No idea. But I guess he won't approve. The rules in this regard are very strict, and he's not the kind of mammal to bend the rules."

"What will you do?"

"Well, we're going to have to tell him eventually, but …"

She was interrupted by Nick entering the kitchen. "Uh, guys, you should come into the living room now!"

"What? Why?"

"Just come over." Nick turned around and left the kitchen again.

Intrigued, Judy followed him, Vivian in tow. They entered a big room, just as sparsely decorated as the rest of the house. Big windows allowed for an unencumbered view down Central Park. In the distance, Judy was almost able to make out Precinct One, the big headquarters of the ZPD in City Center. _Living both near the park and the ZPD_ , Judy thought. _This cannot possibly be any better!_ A huge TV set was standing near the back wall. Vivian had probably been watching TV when they had arrived, and Nick had seen something on it while examining the house. It currently showed a ZNN news break.

"… police has delivered no statement so far. The island is in complete lockdown, with coast guard and ZPD securing the area. Patrol boats are sweeping the surrounding area for fugitives. According to rumors, several inmates have been found in the water, with at least four further casualties."

"What's going on?" Judy asked.

"Mass breakout in Elkatraz," Nick answered crisply. He was sitting on the huge sofa, remote in paw, watching the transmission with rapt attention.

" _What?_ "

"Some goons arrived in power boats, laying waste to the compound, killing at least three dozen guards, and freeing a few prisoners. Some inmates tried to flee through a gap in the wall. Info is sketchy at this point. Nobody seems to know how many died and how many escaped."

"Oh my!" Vivian exclaimed, sitting down next to Nick.

"I need to call Bogo," Judy said. "ZPD probably needs every able-bodied officer at the moment." She took out her cell phone and called the ZPD via MuzzleTime.

A few seconds later, the voice of the chubby dispatcher burst forth, just as the image of the cheetah appeared on the tiny screen. Unlike his usual appearance, he looked slightly depressed. "ZPD Precinct One. I am Officer Benjamin Clawhauser. What may …," he looked at the screen, and a smile spread on his features slowly. "Judy! How are you?"

"I'm fine, Ben. Listen, is the Chief available?"

Clawhauser nodded. "He just returned from Elkatraz. You heard the news?"

"I did, that's why I wanna talk to him."

"Did you find Nick?"

Judy gave him a smile. "I didn't. He found _me_. And before you ask, he has his memories back!"

Clawhauser pressed his paw on his snout, and his eyes seemed to glow from the inside. Every trace of depression seemed to leave him in an instant. "O. M. Goodness! I am _so_ glad."

"Me too, Spots," Nick piped in.

"Nick! Oh, it's so good to hear your voice! How are you?"

"I'm fine. Better than fine actually. Listen, buddy, sorry for giving you the slip yesterday. I simply didn't know better at the time."

"Aw, it's okay! Don't think about it! I could have taken better care, you know." He stretched. "Got some work to do here. You wanted to talk to the Chief, you said?"

"Yes, please," Judy said.

"Alright, patching you through. Have a nice day!"

"You too, Ben," Nick and Judy said in unison. They looked at each other and grinned.

A few seconds later, the image of the cheetah was replaced by the image of a huge cape buffalo, looking into his phone's camera with a gruff expression. "Lieutenant Hopps," Chief Bogo said without greeting or preamble.

"Chief Bogo," Judy replied with a tiny nod.

Bogo gave her a frown. "I assume you want to ask if you should return to the station to help unravel this mess. Well, to answer your question, that would be a 'No.'

Judy's jaw dropped. Was Bogo suddenly able to read minds? She heard a soft chuckle behind her. _Laugh it up, fuzzball!_

"But sir, this is a crisis! This is …"

Bogo lifted his hoof to silence her. "Understanding the press 101, Hopps. What does every journalist like?"

"Uhm, speculation?"

"Worst-case scenarios, Hopps. They always tend to draw a picture in the darkest colors imaginable. Only bad news are good news. It never is as bad as a journalist makes it sound."

"So, the breakout is …"

"Bad enough. Elkatraz is, for the most part, destroyed, so we have to relocate the inmates. 39 guards are dead, four are still missing, including the warden. At least twenty inmates were killed, but there are still five missing."

"Only five?"

"Have you ever been to Elkatraz?"

"No."

"It shows. The seas around the island is mighty dangerous. Eddies and treacherous currents are the norm. Even the most athletic swimmers will be hard-pressed to get through unscathed. Plus the weather was absolutely horrible out there. Most inmates were smart enough to just stay on the compound. Unless you are an aquatic mammal, chances of survival are slim. We found three corpses in the water so far, one weasel, a tiger, and a pygmy hippo."

"A pygmy hippo? I thought they were semi-aquatic."

"Yes, but all your swimming capabilities aren't worth a dime when a wave throws you onto sharp rocks."

"Ouch!"

Bogo heaved a sigh. "So you see, we have the situation well under control."

"Do you know who did this?"

"Not so far. A patrol boat tried to follow the speedboats, but lost them in the Canal District. We found one of the boats in the meantime, or rather, what's left of it. Burnt to a cinder. By the looks of it, the boat had been brand-new. They used it only once, and after they were done, they blew the boat up. Guess the other two will be found just as quickly."

"No further clues?"

"None. The boat was destroyed so thoroughly, it was hardly identifiable as a boat anymore. On top of that, some of the survivors of the attack stated that the attackers had all been wearing gloves, so there will be no pawprints or similar stuff. We just lost them. There are way too few cameras for surveillance. We lost them, and we lost them good."

"What were they after?"

"Difficult to say. All we know is, they had rocket launchers and used them to lay waste to the compound. They even managed to down a patrol boat from the Coast Guard, although the crew made it to the life boats before their vessel capsized. This and the attack itself is proof enough that they're absolutely ruthless. What is more, the witnesses told us they were interested in freeing only one inmate."

"Just one inmate? So much death and destruction for just one inmate?"

"Yes, it certainly seems that way. So we know they're ruthless, and we know they have enough resources to waste it on speedboats which are abandoned after one-time-use."

"Who was the inmate?"

Bogo sighed again. "See, and that's where our brainiacs start scratching their heads. The inmate freed is Dawn Bellwether."

Judy looked around, searching for Nick. The look on his face matched the confusion she felt. "Bellwether, sir? But that doesn't make any sense. Why spring her now, almost four years after she was imprisoned? Everybody knows her face, everybody knows what she's done. If she does so much as show her face in public, some mammals will probably try to execute mob law, especially predators."

"That's exactly the problem, Hopps. We don't know what the criminals could gain by freeing Bellwether. But we know somebody wanted her to be free."

"Which probably means she wasn't alone back then."

"That's what intuition tells me, too. We thought the case was closed. Obviously not." He took a deep breath. "But as you can see, we have the situation contained, at least for the time being. So there's no need for us to call you back to service prematurely. You still have four days of sick leave, Hopps. I suggest you make good use of them. I expect you to return to duty on Monday."

That reminded her of another important fact. "Of course, sir. And I even might bring someone with me."

Bogo's eyes widened. "You mean Wilde?"

"I do."

"He regained his memories?"

Nick piped in. "At least we think so, Chief."

To Judy's surprise, Bogo started to put on an open, honest smile, probably only the fourth or fifth time he had done in the past. "You just made my day, Wilde! Welcome back!"

"Thank you, sir."

"Memories all present and accounted for?"

"As far as I can tell. We want to go to the doctor tomorrow for a check-up. If Dr. Pawson gives me the thumbs-up, I will rejoin you on Monday."

"We need to put you under an thorough evaluation, of course, before we can clear you for duty."

"Of course. I was hoping you'd do it. I don't know if there still are pieces missing. I don't think there are, but …" Nick made a pause. "There is another thing, Chief."

"Which is?"

Nick hesitated. "Can we talk off the record?"

Bogo nodded, placing one hoof over his badge. "Adrian is listening, Nick."

"You remember our conversation back in the hospital, the day they brought Judy there?"

"Of course."

"Well, you know that I … uhm … I made _the_ mistake. As it turns out, Judy made the very same mistake. And … we both acted on it."

Bogo's jaw dropped. "You … did?"

"Yeah. And there's no chance for us to hide it. Emmitt Otterton, you remember him, the florist, he was able to smell Judy on me amongst an avalanche of flowers in the middle of his shop. Clawhauser will know the moment we enter Precinct One. Not to mention Delgato. A lion's nose isn't necessarily the best nose around, still he knows our respective scents well enough to be able to tell what we did during our sick leave."

Bogo closed his mouth, then he sighed. "Good thing you told me off the record, otherwise I'd need to lecture you on fraternization now."

"We know. We know the rules just as well as you do, remember?"

"Of course. Well, I don't have the right to tell you what you should or shouldn't do in your private lives. So as long as you keep your relationship there, I'm good. However, the moment Chief Adrian J. Bogo learns of this, he has no choice but to suspend the both of you. Are we clear?"

"Of course we are, sir."

"Good." He took his hoof off his badge again. "Is there anything else, Hopps, Wilde?"

Judy looked at Nick. "I don't think so, sir."

"Excellent. I expect the both of you Monday morning. Let's say 0830 sharp, my office. Should give us enough time until roll call. I want to talk to you about the recent development between the two of you."

"Off the record?" Nick asked, a trace of worry in his voice.

"Off the record," Bogo confirmed.

"Good. We'll be there," Judy said.

Saying their farewells, Judy disconnected and turned towards Nick. "Bellwether?"

"Sounds strange, doesn't it?" Nick smiled. "But you know what?" Bogo's right. We have four days left of sick leave, we should indeed make good use of them." He looked around. "And we have quite a lot of things on our agenda."

"Yeah, but …"

"No 'but,' Judy! You're on sick leave. The moment you even start _thinking_ about work, I will force you into the bathroom, lock the door and won't release you until Monday."

Judy sighed and nodded. "You're right."

"What was that, again?"

"Damn it, Nick! Do you really need to rub it in?"

"You know me, of course I do!"

* * *

 **Sorry again for the delay. Sadly, the next chapter may also take me a while. Not the chapter itself, but so much has changed for this story, I need to get my stuff in order. Means I need to ponder over a few plotlines. When I'm done with that, I'll deliver the next chapter. Hopefully, it won't take me more than a week again.**

 **Honestly, this story just needs a lot of exposition. A lot of key players are in place - some have been in place before this story even began -, but we're far from being done with the expositional stuff. By my (current) count, there are at least four characters, neither of whom you've met yet, who'll become hugely important later in this story. It will take me probably at least two, maybe three more chapters until the story can really take off. So please, have a little patience! (Edit: It's at least six mammals you haven't met yet - you saw two of them in "Wound," if you read the story, of course. And the expositional stuff will take much more than just three more chapters …)**

 **"** **Otto Rehhagel" is an existing person and one of the most successful and famous soccer (that's football to all Europeans) trainers in Germany. And also famous for crappy one-liners like "Mal verliert man, mal gewinnen die anderen" (Sometimes you lose, sometimes the others win.) or "Jeder kann sagen was** ** _ich_** **will." (Everybody is allowed to say what** ** _I_** **want.) I opted to leave his name as it is, since the German word "Reh" translates to "roe deer."**

 **Now, the idea of Nick having known that Judy would one day be his mate after taking in her scent is based on a German proverb: "Ich kann ihn/sie gut riechen." It means that I like him or her very much, but the literal translation is much more interesting: "I like the smell of him/her." It's based on the idea that you simply love the way your partner/lover/wife/husband smells, and if both partners love the smell of the respective partner, it's highly likely the relationship will work out beautifully. I don't know if there has ever been thorough research on the subject, but it seems to work in the animal kingdom, which is why I included it here.**

 **I learned only yesterday that Delgato is supposed to be a lion. Always thought he was a tiger. Have to change this in my previous story. (Edit: I did in the meantime.)**

 **Well, that's about it! Thanks for reading, and please, send a review my way! I'm really curious about what you think of the story so far!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	4. Chapter 4 - Threats

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **Welcome back to the sick and twisted world of TheCatweazle!**

 **The upcoming chapter is, in a manner of speaking, the oldest chapter of the lot. It even predates my first story! The basic idea haunted me ever since I first saw the movie, because upon seeing it, I noticed … no, I won't tell you yet. Please, just read the chapter, and in the author's notes at the end of this chapter, I will explain everything. And before you ask, it's me nitpicking again, but what I want to tell you is based on solid scientific facts. Needless to say, it is a hugely important chapter, as it is sort of the backbone of the whole enchilada and will give first glimpses into the dark path the story's going to take. That doesn't mean it's an action-filled chapter, to the contrary - I'm still not done with the expositional stuff, not by a long shot. So expect more dialogue - lots of it!**

 **Thanks a bundle to Gunbladeprimal, Galaxyexplorer74, Rhodanos, hpalex13, Trooper9099, and Bukoya for their reviews. And of course to my dear friend, PointyHairedJedi, who did his review in a private message. Fine with me …**

 **And these are the stats so far: More than 1900 views, 29 reviews, 49 favorites and 84 alerts. Climbing and climbing … I love it! Thanks to all of you!**

 **Let's get this square dance started, shall we?**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Four

 **Threats**

 _Don't have no faith no more in you, can't walk a mile no more with you, you're full of lies and nothing's true. I know it's tough but true, I can't rely on you!_

H-Blockx: "I Can't Rely on You" (Music: Stephan "Gudze" Hinz, Lyrics: Dave Gappa, from the album "Discover Your Soul," Sing Sing Records, 1996)

* * *

To the casual observer, it may have looked like the sheep sitting on the bench was sleeping - her outward appearance left no other possible explanation.

Nothing could have been further from the truth. Her body may have been unmoving, but her mind was in frantic activity.

Things hadn't gone quite the way Dawn Bellwether had anticipated them. Sure, she was no longer incarcerated, she had finally left Elkatraz behind, but she had the distinct feeling that her problems had only just begun.

The only thing she was able to say with certainty was that they had taken her to Tundratown. Apart from that, she had no idea where she was. The whole compound she had been brought to had been unfamiliar to her, a dark, nondescript building with nothing identifiable adorning the bare walls. She hadn't recognized any of the faces she had seen so far.

Worst of all, all those mammals she had seen had given her looks which could only be described as utter contempt.

She had thought she had left the worst behind when leaving Elkatraz. But as it turned out, she may have left the island compound, but the feeling that her very life was in danger of being ended prematurely had accompanied her to her current location, wherever that was.

At least nobody was buffeting her around anymore.

She hated boats, so sure enough, she had spent almost forty frantic minutes on a speedboat, being buffeted to and fro in the waves, colliding with other mammals which invariably were much taller and heavier than she was. On the whole, it had been an episode both nauseating and painful. When they had finally reached the Canal District to embark and blow up the boats to cover their tracks, she had thought the physical torture would be over.

Little had she known that the ride to their secret headquarter would hardly be better.

Being stuck in the back of a van, sitting between huge mammals, the ride had been almost as bumpy as the ride in the boat. By the time they had reached their destination, wherever that was, she had collected so many bumps and bruises, she had felt like she had spent the last hour-and-a-half in the washing machine's spin cycle.

And then they had forcefully pulled her out of the van, had led her into the huge, dark building, had placed her on a bench and had seemingly forgotten about her presence.

She tried to assess her situation.

The question was, had her situation improved, or had it deteriorated?

Was she safe, or was her life still on the line?

Without talking to the mammal in charge, she had no way of knowing.

With her eyes closed and her mind wandering, she didn't even notice the mammal walking past her.

* * *

The ram stood at attention, his body trembling slightly. He was in mortal fear, and for a reason.

The buffalo sitting in front of him certainly wasn't a mammal to mess with. Not if you wanted to live to tell the tale.

"So, give me one good reason to not kill you right now!" The buffalo's voice was supremely calm, but held such a menace, it sent shivers down the ram's spine. His speech was clipped, and the words he spoke held just the tiniest hint of an accent, enough to make him sound distinctly alien.

The ram swallowed. "Be … because you need me."

The buffalo nodded. "That is certainly true. I need your expertise. I need your abilities." He made a pause. "But that does _not_ necessarily mean I need you."

The ram took a deep breath. "So what do you wanna do? Kill me? Lose my knowledge?"

"You know perfectly well that I have proven methods of extracting information." He reached into his pocket to produce a vial containing a liquid clear as water. "A few drops of this into your juice, and you will spill your innermost secrets to me."

The ram squinted to be able to see the vial better. "Is this …?"

"You can bet it is. Your own concoction. Still works marvels."

"You would use my own invention … on me?"

The buffalo shrugged. "I use whatever I need to get the results I want. You know this. 'The ends justify the means.'" He sighed while placing the vial on the desktop in front of him. "However, in this particular case, it would be counterproductive."

"What do you mean?"

The buffalo got up from his chair and rounded the table.

And the ram shrank back in fear.

The buffalo stopped in his tracks, looking down at the ram with a frown. "Calm down. I am not going to hurt you."

The ram breathed a sigh of relief as the buffalo continued: "We were an outstanding team once. And we hopefully still are."

"You're … not mad at me?"

"Oh, I was quite mad at you, but not anymore. Without your input, results were not forthcoming. What is more, the way I understand it, you were misguided by this devious little sheep."

The ram looked down in obvious self-mortification. "She told me the serum was ready."

"When you knew perfectly well that it was not."

"Yeah, I knew, but she sounded so convincing …"

The buffalo placed his big hoof on the ram's shoulder. "You were not the only mammal she hoodwinked. It is not your fault. Just try and not be as gullible the next time around."

"I won't disappoint you again."

"I am counting on it. You always were most productive when everything worked in your favor. This is why I want your cooperation, this is why I am loath to force you into helping us."

The ram straightened. "Oh, I'll help you! It's still _my_ work we're talking about."

"Well, in this case …" The buffalo extended his hoof. "Welcome back." They shook hoofs.

The ram hesitated. "She's sitting outside, you know."

"I know. And I am going to deal with her next. When you leave, please send her in." He turned towards the antelope who had been standing in the shadows in the back. "Cynthia, please get him a new set of clothing, show him his rooms, then lead him to the lab." He turned back to the ram again. "I would like you to get back to work as quickly as possible."

"I will. I'm itching to get back to it myself. Being locked up hasn't been exactly a picnic."

The buffalo smiled. It was an unsettling sight, lips moving into a smile which did not reach the eyes. If anything, it looked even colder, even more menacing than the frown he had showed earlier. "I can imagine. You know the stakes have gotten higher? They have an antidote now."

"Great! I love a challenge!"

The buffalo chuckled. Again, the sound held no warmth at all. "I knew you would say this. This is why I want you working on this. You are the best mammal for the job."

"Thanks."

Suddenly, the smile disappeared. "Do not betray my trust again!"

"I won't."

"Like I said, I am counting on it."

* * *

Bellwether's eyes snapped open when a hoof touched her shoulder. She looked up into the face of the mammal standing in front of her, and her jaw dropped.

The ram standing in front of her was Doug Ramses.

"He wants to speak with you," Doug said quietly.

"Doug!" Bellwether squealed. "How … why …" She looked down, noticing that the ram, just like herself, was clad in the orange jumpsuit typical for prisoners in Elkatraz.

 _He was the mammal they wanted to free!_

 _But why? Why him and not me? I was much more important to the cause! He's just a chemist, for crying out loud!_

"You need to ask him," Doug said with a shrug. "I need to get to work."

"Work? What kind of work?"

"The work you made me leave behind." With that, Doug straightened himself and walked down the corridor, following a female antelope.

Bellwether's eyes followed him, completely at her wits' end.

 _The work I made him leave behind? What's that supposed to mean?_

She shrugged inwardly and got up. Maybe the mammal behind the door had answers for her.

Walking towards the massive door, easily big enough for a stampede of buffaloes, she took a deep breath, then she pushed the door open, a difficult task for her, given her small size and the door's massive weight.

Once she had managed to create a gap big enough to walk into the room, she got to witness a scene which looked surprisingly calm and non-threatening. But knowing Moritz Kaffer as well as she did, Bellwether was under no misconception - this could become really ugly really fast. Kaffer was the only mammal in the room, sitting behind a sizeable desk. He was a forest buffalo and therefore enormous, although not quite as tall and massive as Chief Bogo. However, what Kaffer lacked in size, he made up for in raw ferocity - he looked way more intimidating than Bogo ever could, and that, Bellwether thought, was saying something. If only half of the rumors Bellwether had heard over the years were true, she had every reason to be afraid. This buffalo was a menace on two legs.

Yet you would never have heard it in his voice. "Dawn Bellwether," he said smoothly. "I am afraid I am ill-prepared for your presence. I did not count on you appearing here. Pray be seated." He pointed at a chair which was much too large for the diminutive sheep.

"So it's true," Bellwether countered while climbing into the chair with difficulty due to her crippled left leg. "I wasn't the target - Doug was!"

"Of course. Did you not get the memo? Oh, I forgot. You were out of circulation for four years. My mistake." He leaned forward suddenly, and his features turned into a scowl. "You got yourself imprisoned by a dumb bunny and a sneaky fox."

"You could have helped me, Moe!"

"Would you please be so kind and tell me why I should have done so?"

Bellwether stared at Kaffer, dumbfounded. "I was the instigator of our movement! I was the heart and soul behind the fight against predators! I was …"

"… the reason the whole movement was thrown back almost five years," Kaffer interrupted her rudely. "You took our plan and turned it into a hare-brained one. You got yourself and Doug Ramses arrested and convicted. Please tell me, where was your heart and soul there?"

"So what? Maybe I was a bit early with my attempt, but I merely had a stroke of bad luck! It could have worked."

"And this is where you are wrong, Bellwether. It could _never_ have worked, not in the long run."

"This is ridiculous!" Bellwether shouted. "I was close to achieving victory!"

"You really think you were? You really do not know?"

"Know what?"

"Do you happen to have any idea just how lucky you have been back then?"

" _Lucky?_ "

"It is a miracle of the first order that your scam worked as long as it did. Its failure was imminent and completely unavoidable."

"Now wait a second …"

"Had you waited," Kaffer interrupted her again, "we could have provided you with the ultimate Night Howler serum. But you did not want to wait, you wanted your moment to shine, your moment of personal glory. Which I would have given you, later, but like I said, you did not want to wait any longer. You wanted the moment to take place immediately. A moment you, personally, did nothing for to make it possible in the first place. You did not create the serum. You did not know how it would work, how it would perform, its abilities and limitations. You only used it, and you used it at a time when it was not ready yet."

"It was ready!" Bellwether shouted. "It did what it was supposed to do!"

"Yes, it worked in turning mammals savage, barely, but it was far from being ready."

"How can you say that?"

"Because I know the truth, unlike you, and I see the bigger picture. You just saw an opportunity, and like the opportunist that you are, you grasped it. Had you waited, had you let Doug Ramses do his work to the very end, we would have provided you with the ultimate weapon. But you grew impatient and greedy, and it proved to be your downfall. Earning you a stint in Elkatraz, instead of the Mayor's Office. Your greed. Your downfall. Your personal failure."

The calm manner in which Kaffer delivered these words gave Bellwether pause. Kaffer obviously hadn't counted on a response, because he continued after a short pause. "One of the characteristics of the _Midnicampum holicithias_ flower is its blue color. A color which, unfortunately, is pretty recognizable and almost impossible in nature. A few birds have blue streaks in their plumages, but on mammals, you will be hard-pressed to find blue fur. Doug and I knew that, which is why we decided the color would be among the first things we would need to get rid of, once the serum itself was working."

He made another pause and looked at Bellwether with a steely gaze. Bellwether couldn't help shrinking deeper into her seat in response to the contempt showing in the face of the buffalo. "And then along comes a devious sheep with delusions of grandeur. All she sees is that the serum itself is working in turning mammals savage, so she convinces Doug, who is close to achieving total success in his research, to abandon said research and utilize the incomplete serum as it is.

"I had been completely certain that your scheme would be uncovered almost immediately, but you were incredibly lucky. The savage mammals were caught and brought to Cliffside Asylum, where Dr. Madge Badger tried to find an antidote. You can really consider yourself lucky that she did not do what she should have done immediately."

"Which is?" Bellwether tried her hardest, but was unable to stop her voice from quavering.

"Look for colored stains."

"Excuse me?"

Kaffer got up and walked over to the wall, approaching a blackboard adorned with numerous pictures. He took two of them, returned to the desk and threw one of the pictures on the desktop. "This is a picture of one of your victims, taken by Doug after he had targeted him. Look closely."

Bellwether leaned forward, taking the picture in her hoofs. It showed a polar bear, being restrained by three Timberwolves with tasers.

And just above the collar of his shirt, on his neck, a very prominent dark blue stain broke the uniform white of his fur.

"If I recall correctly," Kaffer said, "Mr. Nanook was your third victim. According to her personal log, Dr. Badger subjected him to a thorough examination, once she had sedated him. This," he held up the picture, "is a copy of a picture Dr. Badger herself took of her subject."

He handed her the picture. It showed the very same polar bear, lying on an examination table, obviously in deep, drug-induced sleep. He was still wearing his trousers, but someone had removed his shirt.

And now the blue stain was even more recognizable.

"Nobody asked themselves the question of just what the blue stain was. Nobody examined it more closely, nobody took samples. They all failed at doing their job properly." Kaffer sat down again. "Your scheme only got as far as it did because everyone involved in solving the case failed miserably at recognizing the smoking gun. Had I seen these pictures, I would have asked the question of just what this blue stain was exactly. I would have been able to unravel your scheme in less than ten minutes, and I would probably have been able to concoct an antidote in less than three weeks, about the time it took the team of Doctors Peralta, Afer, Badger, Professor Mitis, and Mr. Gusteau to find one, once they knew what they were dealing with. Your scheme only got so far because Dr. Badger and her team who examined the first victims completely failed at doing their jobs properly."

Bellwether looked at the pictures open-mouthed, realizing that the buffalo was right.

The stain really stood out. Easily recognizable as something not natural on fur.

"We were very close to a breakthrough when you hoodwinked Doug into helping you. Two months, tops, and we would have gotten the color out of the serum. Two more months, and we would have gotten rid of the smell, too. A colorless, odorless Night Howler serum. Almost impossible to detect, once the stain has dried. That had been the plan. Four months of research, maybe a few months more, to make everything foolproof. That was all we needed."

Kaffer leaned back and squinted. "But you had to disrupt the research by convincing Doug that his job was done. Your hare-brained scheme not only earned you a stint at Elkatraz which was, in my opinion, well-deserved, just because of your stupidity. It also cost us the only scientist who really understood the intricacies behind creating the Night Howler serum. Without Doug Ramses, research came to a complete standstill. And it remained that way for almost five years, despite our best efforts."

He leaned forward again suddenly, dropping every pretense of being civil. Bellwether couldn't help shaking in fright. This was one seriously angry mammal, a mammal with a solid track record of violence and murder. And his anger was only directed at her.

Suddenly Bellwether wished she hadn't convinced the caribou to free her. Sure, Elkatraz had been her own personal hell, but between choosing hell and possible death, she'd always prefer hell.

Because immediate death had suddenly become a very likely outcome.

"For all your talk about the good and noble cause you were constantly spouting, you, and you alone, have been the mammal to throw the cause back some five years. You have cost _me_ five years! You have cost _your brothers and sisters in the faith_ five years. How does _that_ weigh on your conscience?" He made a pause, and his gaze became even more threatening. "Do you have any idea just how many mammals in this building alone want to see you dead? Not to mention the citizens of Zootopia, who are not likely to welcome you back with open arms any time soon."

Bellwether just stared at him, half expecting him to pull a gun out of the drawer of his desk to kill her.

"Give me one good reason to not kill you right now!" Kaffer hissed.

 _So this is it_ , Bellwether thought. _This is how I'm going to die!_

"You are completely and utterly useless, Bellwether! Everybody knows your face. Everybody knows what you have done. In the eyes of the public, you are Enemy Number One. There is nothing you can do for the cause anymore, just because everybody will assume that you are up to no good. Right now, killing you would mean doing most mammals in Zootopia a favor."

Kaffer sighed, and his features suddenly softened. "Unfortunately, killing you right now, after your very public escape, might alert others, for instance the ZPD, to our presence. So killing you is not really an option to consider at this stage."

Bellwether couldn't help releasing the breath she had been holding. She was not going to die! Relief flooded her, making her feel almost light-headed.

"Besides," Kaffer continued, "we still might find a use for you yet."

At this moment, the door opened, and an antelope entered the room. "Ah, Cynthia, as if on cue. Excellent. Please provide Ms. Bellwether with a change of clothes, then assign her a room. She will stay with us for the time being."

If the antelope was surprised by his orders, she gave no sign. She merely made an inviting gesture. "If you would please follow me, Ms. Bellwether."

Bellwether got up, trembling from head to toe. She had just dodged a bullet, and she knew it. "Thank you, Moe," she croaked.

"Do not thank me just yet, Bellwether," Kaffer growled. "I might still change my mind. Do not give me a reason to."

Bellwether swallowed, then she turned away hastily, wanting to bring as much distance between herself and Kaffer as possible.

She had hardly left the room when Kaffer picked up his phone, dialing a number. After a few seconds, an indistinct male voice was heard. "It is me, Sonny. You heard the news, I presume?"

He listened to the answer. "Yes, she is here right now. And no, she is still alive." He listened again. "She is an expert politician, she knows all the mammals, all the connections, all the possibilities. So why not use her as a consultant? Off the record, of course."

After almost one minute of listening, Kaffer chuckled. "You know me too well, Sonny. Of course it is just a front. Bellwether is history, but she may yet have one final use for us. Just keep her occupied until then." Another pause. "Until we are done with our research, of course. And yes, I will keep you posted."

* * *

 **The plot thickens … Who the heck is Sonny? Well, stay tuned to find out!**

 **The name "Moritz Kaffer," like most other OC names in this story (for instance those in Chapter Two), is derived from the scientific name of the given mammal, in this case the African forest buffalo,** ** _Syncerus caffer nanus_** **. Kaffer is a perfectly fine surname in Germany (there is a German racing driver named Pierre Kaffer, for example), just as Moritz is a common first name here. And in case you're wondering,** ** _Nanook_** **is the Inuit name for the polar bear.**

 **The character of Moritz Kaffer himself, or rather his manner of speech, is my way of poking fun at myself. One of the reviews I received for my "Nightmare" story (by an anonymous guest) told me that the telltale sign that I'm not a native speaker of English is that I don't use contractions the way native speakers do. He/she was perfectly right. It's a quirk I'm quite well-known for. Even when talking, I rarely use contractions. I'd much rather say "I do not" than "I don't." So, to poke a bit of fun at myself, I wanted to create a character who does use NO CONTRACTIONS WHATSOEVER! (And to be honest, he ended up sounding a lot like me. God, this is getting a bit too weird, even by my standards!)**

 **Now for the more important things in this chapter:**

 **The problem Kaffer mentions is the only problem I, personally, have with the movie Zootopia. His words are mine, his thoughts are mine. (Well, apart from the cruel, murderous stuff, of course! ;-))**

 **Why did nobody recognize the blue stains for what they were? Why did nobody take a sample? Did it really occur to nobody that the stains aren't natural? Could it be that the stains were overlooked? They must have been there. Most colors are usually not absorbed by the skin, and even if the chemists manage to create a concoction which is absorbed, fur is a different matter. Hair consists of dead cells. Since they are dead, there are no metabolic processes between the hair and a substance. Hair doesn't absorb at all, it is, for all intents and purposes, chemically inert. Which means the stain stays like it is. It will become dry at one point, yet the colored stain remains. (If that weren't the case, no hair colorization would be effective - the color would fade out within hours.)**

 **And nobody realized this? Not even on the white fur of a polar bear, where it must have stood out by a mile?**

 **It is safe to assume that the savage predators, upon being delivered to Dr. Madge "Honey" Badger at Cliffside Asylum, were sedated and thoroughly examined - it's what every self-respecting scientist would do. Yet she and all the other mammals involved in the scheme, they all failed to see the big blue stain along the neck? They all failed to realize they were looking at the smoking gun?**

 **Yes, of course, we wouldn't have had much of a plot if the guys at Disney had incorporated the stains, so from a movie-maker's point-of-view, their decision is perfectly understandable. Still, the whole thing sounds VERY improbable to me.**

 **I am perfectly aware that this may sound like nitpicking, but it's just the consequence of the way I watch movies. I tend to look for oddities, strange things or cool stuff in the background. It's just the way I'm wired, I'm afraid!**

 **The most surprising fact is that I have found no movie critique, no comment, no review in which this mistake is mentioned. Don't know if I'm the first one to notice this - I kinda doubt it -, but it's obvious that most people didn't realize the problem so far. I have half a mind to try and contact Byron Howard, Rich Moore and Jared Bush and ask them whether this was intentional or a mistake by the writers, the animators, and the graphic artists. Problem is, I can reach them via Twitter, but I have no Twitter account, and I'm not interested in changing anything about this. (As a rule, I dislike most social media systems intensely. I like my privacy very much, so I've no intention to let everybody in on my dirty little secrets. Yeah, I'm looking at you, Mark Zuckerberg, and your lame-ass scheme to sell private information to the highest bidder!) If anyone knows how to contact the three aforementioned excellent members of the human race, please let me know!**

 **So, prepare for the return of the new, all-improved Night Howler serum v. 2.0 …**

 **Thanks for reading, and keep those reviews coming strong! (This mortal form has grown weak! I need written sustenance. ;-))**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	5. Chapter 5 - Thoughtful Discussions

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **And these author's notes are going to be lengthy …**

 **Guess I'm down to a weekly update schedule. (Edit: Har har!) The story's still quite rough around the edges, I have yet to find my flow, so updates are slow-ish. Maybe I will be faster again after a few more chapters, when I find my stride, and the action really takes off. So far, writing this is quite a laborious process - too much research, too much tweaking and perfecting. (Edit: All of the above is no longer valid, obviously …)**

 **Speaking of which …**

 **O.M. Goodness, what a discussion I unleashed with my last chapter!**

 **My issue with the blue Night Howler stains led to me discussing this matter back and forth with several reviewers. Before you get the wrong idea now, I'm not complaining, to the contrary: I was having a blast! To me, it's simply great going over the intricacies of plotlines and possible mistakes and possibilities in minute detail. So, in case you have questions or suggestions, just bring 'em on! You know where to find me! It simply cannot be too detailed, to convoluted, too outlandish for me. I'm a perfectionist, a researcher, a nitpicker. The more details, the better. So even tiny contributions are very much appreciated. If you want a discussion, I'm your man! Thanks in advance!**

 **With this being said, a quick glance at the stats: More than 2,800 views, 43 reviews, 55 favorites and 91 alerts. Funny enough, the number of views of my first story still climbs similarly fast. No idea why. Be that as it may, both sets of numbers make me more than content.**

 **Thanks to all those sending me their reviews: PointyHairedJedi, BeecroftA, vanillabeanthunder, GalaxyExplorer74, RandomNobody37, Rhodanos, hpalex13, HawkTooth, Gunbladeprimal, Dirtkid123, DaniChibari, and Trooper9099.**

 **Thanks for your kind word, dear Guest. I learned in the meantime that I haven't been the only one to see this mistake. At least Rhodanos, hpalex13, and HawkTooth told me they had seen it, too. But most viewers seem to have missed it. Even CinemaSins (a YouTube channel focused on pointing out things that movie makers did wrong) didn't mention it in their short "Everything wrong with Zootopia (in 9 minutes or less)" feature, while they mentioned a lot of stuff that made little to no sense at all!**

 **Speaking of which (yeah, Gunbladeprimal, I'm on it again!), in case someone from CinemaSins reads this: If you want to nitpick on a movie, like I usually do, at least have the decency to take into account that there are a few things within the world of the movie that need to be taken at face value. In other words, you sure screwed up with your little snippet. So yeah, Judy's surname is Hopps. While this may be a pun on bunnies, it is a perfectly normal name in the human world. Ever thought of that, huh? You claim to have found 78 "sins" in Zootopia. Even if I'm generous, I can easily throw half of those out of the window. For instance, why the heck is it a sin when Stu Hopps tells his daughter that if she never tries anything new, she will never fail? It's just the way Stu is wired, for crying out loud! And what has Michael Bay to do with this? Are you assigning mistakes to a movie because of the mistakes of others? And why is a stupid pun like "Lady Gagazelle" a movie sin? It's a sin to make lame puns like those, and you're the only ones to blame for stuff like this. NOT THE MOVIE!**

 **I could go on like that for weeks! Yes, I am** ** _that_** **pissed-off!**

 **Please, for your own sake, stick to things you understand, instead of picking on movies you obviously didn't like and therefore didn't bother to even try and understand!**

 **Sorry, but I needed to get this out of my system! This short clip** ** _so_** **annoyed me, I can barely find words to describe it! It's neither enlightening, nor entertaining, nor funny. It's just annoying! Period! Watch it and loath it, I dare you!**

 **Now, to far more cheerful things:**

 **Following popular demand, ahem, following one request (by vanillabeanthunder), the upcoming chapter revolves around our favorite couple again! Just kidding! This one was always laid out as a WildeHopps chapter. As a matter of fact, this is going to be the first of several chapters mostly concerned with Nick and Judy. I wanted to cram everything in one chapter, but this would have been far too long and unwieldy.**

 **Oh, and before I forget: In case you're interested in outstanding fanart, I am following a suggestion Matri gave me: Just use your favorite search engine, type in "Mead Chief Wilde," click one of the Tumblr pages of Mead - one of the first entries in Google - and look around. Awesome stuff! I particularly suggest following the story "Judy is Dead." One of the best continuous fanart stories I've ever seen! The emotions are out of this world! Mead's on vacation at the moment, so there are no updates right now! Really annoying - I wanna see how the story around Chief Wilde and July Hopps (that's no typo) unfolds. Please, Mead, if you read this, give us more! AND SOON! (Edit: The story's complete by now, and so is the next one, "Water Under the Burrows." Fascinating stuff!)**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Five

 **Thoughtful Discussions**

 _She's got a smile that it seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories, where everything was as fresh as a bright blue sky._

Guns N' Roses: "Sweet Child o' Mine" (Written by W. Axl Rose, Slash, Izzy Stradlin', Duff "Rose" McKagan and Steven Adler, from the album "Appetite for Destruction," Geffen, 1987)

* * *

Nick ticked of the items on their imaginary to-do-list with his digits. "So, I need to meet Doc Pawson for my check-up, I need to move out, _you_ need to move out, we need to move in here - one paw's not enough -, and you promised to spend a few days with your parents to, ahem, cry your eyes out. And on Monday it's back to work again. Anything else?"

Judy grinned, shaking her head. "I guess that about sums it up."

"Right. So that's Bunnyburrow, by train, the hospital, by cable car, bus, or cab. I see a tiny little problem with us moving though."

The grin vanished, and Judy sighed. "We don't have a car. Right. Damn! Should've thought of that."

"We could hire movers, or we could ask Stan for help. He still has his van."

"Stan? Who's Stan?"

Nick smiled. "Stan Barks, the comic artist, otherwise known as Finnick."

Judy squinted her eyes as if in deep thought. "Finnick's a comic artist?"

"Yep. A hugely successful one, unless I'm very much mistaken. Guess he makes more money than the two of us together … several times over!"

Judy smiled. "You know what? I'm glad for him. He sure deserved some good times after you left him."

"I totally agree. By the way, I told you about him yesterday, Carrots. And about his name."

"You told me? My memory is murky at best."

"That's what you get from polishing off a bottle of cider."

"One whole bottle?" Vivian joined them in the hallway, a small bag in her paws.

"It was three-fourths," Judy said.

"At least seven-eighths," Nick said.

"Three-fourths!"

Nick opened his mouth, paused, then he grinned. "Why are we arguing? It doesn't matter _how much_ you drank, it was _way too much_ in any case."

Judy sighed. "Can't disagree on that one, that's for sure."

"How's the head?" Vivian asked with genuine concern.

Judy smiled at her. "Better. Took two alka-seltzer, and I drank a lot of water. I'm fine, although I guess I'm still at least close to the legal limit."

Vivian raised an eyebrow. "If you are, you're a lightweight."

"She is", Nick said with a grin. "Remember me to tell you what she did on the birthday party of one of our co-workers."

"No, Nick, we are NOT going to talk about that now!" Judy placed her paws at her hips, her right hind paw thumping the ground.

Nick's grin only widened. To his mother, he said: "Let's just say Judy invented some new and, ahem, _very creative_ lyrics for pop songs when someone put a CD in Francine's player. Among other things."

"I think I told you to SHUT THE HECK UP, Slick!"

"Apart from the fact that you didn't - you merely said that we're not going to talk about it now, and I never agreed on that one -, well, no can do, Fluff. I'm a police offer. It is my duty to make the truth known to the public."

"The truth? Hah!"

"You can't deny it, Fluff-Butt."

"You have no proof, Duster-Tail!"

"I have the accounts of twelve eyewitnesses, and in case you're wondering, each and every one of them is a highly respectable police officer."

"You were all conspiring against me!"

"We are all just guardians of the truth! And the truth shall set you free."

Judy clenched her paw, raising it in front of his snout. "The truth shall set your teeth free."

"Oh, you wanna have a go at me? Come on, give it your best shot!"

"FOOOOOOXXX!"

"RAAABBIIIITTT!"

Vivian smiled. "I love thoughtful discussions!" When both Judy and Nick looked at her, she added: "You two are just adorable. You sound like a couple of ten years."

Judy could feel fire consuming her ears. No way her mate and his mother would be able to overlook the red tint that crept up her face and ears. Before she turned her head to hide it, her gaze fell on Nick, and it silently pleased her that he, too, looked quite flustered. In a blatantly obvious attempt to distract from his embarrassment, he looked at his mother. "What's with the bag?" he asked.

Vivian shrugged. "I told you, I usually only spent the days here. I returned to the hospice for the nights. And now that you," she reached out and placed her paw on his cheek, "have returned to me, it's time for me to return to the hospice and stay there for good." She looked around. "This is yours now, Nicky."

"Are you sure about this?" Nick eyed his mother with trepidation.

"Never been more sure." She pointed at the kitchen. "This will fall into your possession when I die anyway, but in case you want it right now, I left some legal papers in the kitchen. When you sign them, everything's yours immediately. It's quite foolproof."

He looked around. "This is so weird! Only this morning we talked about moving in together, and now, we have a house."

"A palace." Judy still wasn't able to wrap her head around the fact just how big the house was. Two bedrooms, one fox-sized, one bunny-sized, just as Vivian had promised, two rooms for guests, a huge living room leading out into a spacious patio, complete with a swimming pool, three more rooms which could serve as children's rooms or studies, three bathrooms, one with a bathtub which doubled as a whirlpool, a big kitchen with all the amenities modern technology could provide, and a dining room big enough to allow for raucous parties for thirty fox-sized guests - or one dozen of their much bigger workmates. All very modern, all quite stylish, with everything they needed - and then some!

To a fox, it was a really big house. To a rabbit, it was a palace.

"Yes, I was really lucky finding it," Vivian said, looking around again. "And I was lucky enough to have enough money to buy it." She looked at Nick with a smile, which he returned.

"Did nobody ever ask you where all your money came from?" Judy asked.

Vivian looked down at her. "No, actually. I was well-known for working at a bar and leading a frugal life. Everybody just seemed to assume I had saved most of my earnings. Why do you ask?"

Judy shrugged. "You probably know better than me what a lot of mammals think of foxes."

Vivian's lips tightened. "I won't pretend that I didn't face prejudice in my time, but somehow nobody bothered me all that much."

Nick nodded. "Most mammals don't care about foxes enough to cause us trouble. I was perfectly able to take a stroll in daytime without being bothered, as you may recall. In certain circles however … being a fox is a liability, even today."

"Which is why I usually carry this around with me." Vivian opened her bag and pulled out an item.

Judy looked at it briefly, then did a double-take. " _Fox repellant?_ "

Vivian grinned. "Of course. What else is there? This is by far and away the best pepper spray in existence."

Nick put on a sardonic smile. "Because foxes are considered so, ahem, trustworthy, the 'Fox Away' brand prides itself on giving you the most bang for your buck. Their fox repellant has the highest concentration of capsaicin of all pepper sprays on the market, and by quite a big amount at that. And their tasers are powerful enough to take down rhinos - therefore they actually are much too powerful for foxes. There are rumors that quite a few foxes died from cardiac arrest after being tasered in the past, so it is said that the company had to dial the voltage down massively. Some say they never did." He sighed. "Be that as it may, their products are still highly effective, and despite the name, they work on all mammals, of course. This tiny canister is so potent in fact, it can take down an elephant with ease. Or a polar bear."

Judy rolled her eyes. "I know that. It's just … it's called 'Fox Away,' yet a fox has one. Oh, the irony."

"I like it," Vivian said with a smile and put the canister away.

"I had one," Judy said softly. "Almost caused us to split apart for good."

"I know. Nick told me. Do you still have it?"

"No. I gave it to my dad when I returned to Bunnyburrow. When I came back to Zootopia a few weeks later, I kind of forgot about the whole thing, and my father had, by then, become business partner to a fox, so there was no need for fox repellant in our household anymore, and nobody even mentioned it ever again. If he still has it, I guess it is well and truly stowed away. And as cops, we have more effective means to take down mammals. Tranquilizers, for example. Or tasers."

"And ours are adaptable to the upcoming task. You face a rhino? Bring out the big guns. It's a weasel? Bring out the small doses. Usually works like a charm."

"Did you ever have problems?" Vivian asked.

"With tranq guns or tasers?" Nick exchanged a glance with Judy, who shook her head. "Well, every cop has stories about a tranq gun misfiring, or about missing a target numerous times. Since they work with compressed air, their darts travel slowly, so a nimble target may be able to dodge them. But apart from that, they're pretty reliable. Tasers are pretty much a fire-and-forget story. The electrodes fly quite fast, and once they hit the target, it usually is game over for all but the biggest mammals. Why do you ask?"

"Well, you were shot. Ever thought of having a real gun, shooting real lead?"

Nick smiled. "Apart from the fact that our tranq guns are real guns, as are the taser guns, no, I don't actually want a 'real' gun. Those were banned for a reason, and a good one at that. Besides, there are mammals you cannot bring down with a .45 caliber bullet. And I can't even lift some of the guns needed against bigger mammals. Ever seen a rifle shooting .50 BMG caliber bullets? Those are so big, only the rhinos and elephants on the force can wield them effectively. The lions and tigers in our precinct can't do it. Freddie Delgato almost broke his arm trying to fire one on the shooting range, and he couldn't have hit a barn door with it. So, no, Mom, I'm fine with the guns we get."

Judy nodded. "My sentiments exactly. Besides, our weapons they can be really dangerous. Especially when combined."

Nick gave a frown. "Combine what?"

"Pepper spray and a taser."

"Come on! Who would be so dumb to combine pepper spray with a taser?"

Judy shrugged. "Rhinowitz once told me the story that he shot a perp with pepper spray. When this didn't bring the mammal down, his partner shot him with his taser. Boom, instant fireball."

"Really?"

"Yes. The perp suffered third-degree burns and spent three weeks in hospital."

"Wow! I just decided that I will be more cautious with our weapons in the future."

"You better."

"Just as long as you don't die in the line of duty." Vivian paused. "I may have to go early, but the two of you don't need to."

The three of them became eerily quiet. Judy had, of course, been aware that Vivian was about to die from cancer, and she had feared for Nick's life several times in the past. Not to mention her own brush with death little more than one month ago. Still this was a topic she was most unwilling to discuss.

Vivian had no such inhibitions. No surprise there - she had claimed to have come to terms with her imminent demise years ago, so the thought was probably commonplace to her. "I wanted to ask, could you be so kind and take me to the hospice? I usually drove there by myself, but since you're here now, I thought you could take me there. The car's yours anyway."

Nick frowned. "The car? What car?"

"You have a car?" Judy asked.

"I do, yes." Vivian looked smug.

"Cool!" Judy said. "We could use one for our move."

"Don't count your chickens before they're hatched, Carrots. I guess her car won't be of much help for what we need to do. It's probably some tiny, stylish, glorified shopping cart or a really, really old clunker," Nick said dismissively.

Vivian shrugged. "Yes, it's quite old. Even older than me."

Nick rolled his eyes. "Great! That means repairs, I guess."

"Oh, I don't know. Why don't you go to the garage and see for yourself?"

What they got to see, however, when they reached the garage and he opened the garage door, was something neither Judy nor Nick had anticipated.

"You gotta be kiddin' me", Nick shouted. "A Furd Mustang Convertible!"

"Oh my!" Judy exclaimed. "And a really nice one, too! It's the '66 model, right? With the 289 cubic inch 'High Performance' engine, right? Right?" She started to bounce enthusiastically.

"And here, finally, is a girl who knows her cars," Vivian said with a smile. "You're right on both accounts. Bought it last year on a whim and had it restored. It's as good as new, as a matter of fact. How comes that you know so much about cars?"

Judy shrugged. "By my count, at least seven of my siblings became car mechanics. It's in my genes, I guess. And growing up on a farm means that there always was big, clunky machinery around. Machinery that I, sometimes, helped fixing. So yep, I know my cars. You?"

She shrugged. "My daddy was a car freak. Guess it rubbed off on me."

"Not on him, though," Judy said, grinning, while pointing at Nick who was still walking around the car, staring at it as if he had never seen anything like it before.

"Not that I recall. When he told me he had finally obtained a driving license, I was surprised."

"Cops need one," he said absentmindedly while walking around the car, examining it.

"Wait a second," Judy said. "You only made your license when you joined the ZPD?"

Without looking at her, Nick said: "In the months before joining the Academy, yes. I never needed one before that, seeing that I didn't have a car and never was in need of having one - Finnick had his van, and that was quite enough for me. I also made my high school diploma during that time. Turns out I needed one to apply for the Academy."

"You did? In three months?"

Nick finally looked at her, a frown on his face. "Yeah. Why?"

"Nick! Getting the high school diploma, twenty years after leaving school without one, _in just three months_ , that's pretty awesome!"

Nick gave her his trademark smirk. "Well, what can I say? I'm a genius!"

"Says the fox who forgot to zip his fly."

His gaze went down immediately. Upon finding nothing amiss, he looked at Judy again, grinning. "Sly bunny."

"Dumb fox. Uh, no. Smart fox. Smart enough to get his high school diploma in just three months."

"Don't forget I also was valedictorian of my class back at the Academy."

"Still as modest as ever," Vivian said with a grin.

Judy sighed. "You have no idea!"

"Hey," Nick said, leaning against the car in a nonchalant manner, "it's not my fault that I'm too smart and too handsome for my own good!"

Judy groaned. "Please remind me why I keep putting up with you."

"Because you know you love me."

Judy smiled. "Do I know that? Yes. Yes, I do."

Nick returned the smile, then turned to Vivian. "I can't believe this is all mine."

"Oh, Nick!" Vivian walked over to him and hugged him. "You did so much for me, it's only fair that I return the favor. It was your money anyway."

"Well," Nick said, "I don't know …"

"Oh, come on!" Judy piped in. "Lionheart pardoned you! Your record is clean, the tax debt was repaid, and nobody's any the wiser. And I guess you made amends, and lots of it."

Nick shrugged. "I hope I did." He opened the car with the keys Vivian had given him. "Too bad the weather's so horrible. I would love to drive with the top down."

"They said the rain would stop in the early afternoon. Which is now," Vivian said.

Nick looked outside. The rain had lessened, yet there still was a fine drizzle. "I don't know about you, but I hate getting my fur wet."

"Me too," Vivian said. "Come on, let's get going."

They climbed into the car, with Nick at the wheel, Vivian riding shotgun, and Judy on the back bench. After taking some seconds to get used to the unfamiliar vintage car, Nick started the engine and slowly drove out of the garage.

"Say, since we're on our way to the hospital anyway," Judy said, "what do you say we pay Doctor Pawson a visit? Maybe he's free right now to examine you."

Nick nodded. "Excellent idea. I want to get this over with."

* * *

The first thing the three noted upon reaching Zootopia General Hospital was that there obviously was some major construction work underway. The whole tower containing most patient's rooms, colloquially called "bed tower," was surrounded by scaffolding. That and the presence of numerous construction vehicles made it very obvious that the hospital was either refurbished or expanded.

"That's odd," Judy said, looking at the bed tower. "I thought the hospital was on its last legs."

"That's true," Vivian said, "but most of their rooms need refurbishing - the last time they did anything around here was in the mid-to late-nineties. I don't think you were even born back then."

"Hey, I was born in 1991!" Judy said with a grin. Most mammals had notorious difficulties guessing the age of other species.

Vivian looked back at her and grinned. "Really? Listening to you half an hour ago, I was under the impression that you had barely left your pre-teens." When Nick started laughing, she turned towards him. "And you, Nicky, sounded like you still were in kindergarten." Now Judy had to laugh.

"But seriously," Judy said after having calmed down, "where did they get the money for this? This must be one hell of an expensive construction."

Nick shrugged while parking the car. "I guess that's all got to do with our mutual friend in Tundratown."

"Mr. Big?" Judy frowned. "I mean, yes, he's a philanthropist, but he usually expects something in return."

"And he already got something in return."

"Excuse me?"

Nick turned off the engine and turned towards Judy. "I was there when he struck a deal with Pawson. Mr. Big told him that he would make all their financial worries disappear, in return for making sure that you survive." He looked back at the construction work. "He sure stuck to his end of the bargain."

Judy's jaw dropped. "All this … because of _me_?"

"You can bet your fluffy butt on that." He gave a sigh. "Look, he even forgave me, because I saved your life. He loves you like a daughter. He buried the hatchet, he re-invited me into the family, despite of what I did to him and his grandmama. This," he pointed at the building, "this is just a logical consequence to him. You help his family, he helps you. Pawson saved you, he saves his hospital. Simple as that. Money has little meaning to him. Power has. Friendship has. Family has."

"Wow! Never thought this connection would lead to anything good and meaningful!"

"Oh, you don't know half of it! He may be a mob boss, but he has helped so many mammals in Zootopia, he is without a shadow of a doubt one of, if not _the_ most important benefactor this city has ever seen."

"And I always thought his connection with me would be a problem at one point, what with me being a cop and all."

Nick chuckled. "You're not the only officer at the ZPD to have a close connection with him."

"Not? No, of course not. There's you."

"And another one."

"Another one? Really? Who?"

"No idea. He just told me that we were not his only friends at the ZPD."

"I wonder who it is."

Nick snorted. "If Mr. Big wants you to know, he'll tell you. If he doesn't, you will never know who it is. Unless the mammal, or mammals, tell you themselves. No use straining your gray matter over this."

"Just imagine, it could be Clawhauser! He and Fru Fru would certainly understand each other magnificently from the get-go." Nick and Judy stared at each other, then said at the same time: "Nah!" Both started to laugh.

They left the car, walking across the huge parking lot towards the building. Thankfully, the rain had completely stopped, and it even looked like the sun would be making one of its rare appearances soon.

When they entered the building, a female capybara, obviously a nurse, was welcoming them. She had obviously waited for Vivian to return to the hospice. Amidst several hugs (and quite a lot of tears from Judy), they said their farewells, and Nick and Judy promised Vivian to visit her again after returning from Bunnyburrow.

Then both went to the reception, asking if Pawson was available. He was, and he even seemed happy to see a completely recovered Nick. At once, he gave him a thorough examination, including yet another CAT scan of his brain. After almost three hours of constant probing, tweaking, and fiddling, he had his diagnosis:

"Congratulations, Lieutenant Wilde. I give you a clean bill of health. As far as I'm concerned, you could start working tomorrow."

Nick smiled. "I'm on sick leave till Monday, and I intend to make good use of it."

Pawson chuckled. "Of course. Feel free to do so; the way I see it, a few more days of R&R could never hurt. The last weeks have been quite hard on the two of you."

"You could say that."

"And you are sure there is no lasting damage?" Judy asked.

"None that I see," Pawson answered. "The cerebral hemorrhage has always been negligible. Other mammals with similar bleedings suffered no ill effects at all. Then again, so have patients with much more severe bleedings. Like I told you before, the brain is a marvelous organ, one that still somewhat eludes medical practitioners. The day we finally unravel those mysteries, that's the day when a lot of mammals with traumatic brain injuries will be able to recover completely. But there still is a really long road ahead of us."

He looked at Nick again, opened a drawer and pulled out a few pieces of paper. "Speaking of which, you would do the medical community a great service if you would allow me to send your examination results to a few colleagues of mine. One works at Zootopia University, and neurology and brain research is his special subject. I would blacken your personal information, of course."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "So I'd become a research object."

"In a manner of speaking. Don't worry, you'll just have to endure the normal examinations. All I'd do is share the results with my colleagues."

Nick shrugged. "Fine with me. It's not that withholding the results of my medical examinations is of great use to me or anyone."

"To the contrary. Sharing the results with my colleagues might help us unravel the brain's last mysteries to help others with brain injuries. If you agree with it, I'd like to ask you to sign here."

"No problem." Nick spent a few seconds reading the paper, then he signed it with a flourish. "There, all done."

"Fine. I'd like to examine you again in about three months. Do you want to make an appointment now?"

"You'd better. I will certainly forget about the whole thing."

Judy raised an eyebrow. "Uh, Nick …"

Nick grinned. "Forget, as in, don't care enough about it to commit it to memory."

Pawson chuckled. "That's one of the more elegant ways to describe that one dislikes being examined by a doctor."

"You heard that? Damn! What gave me away?" countered Nick, and all three started laughing.

Pawson became serious first. "So, no further memory issues?"

"None that I'm aware of. I mean, there's so much I may have lost, but right now, I think I got it all." Nick shrugged. "And if I really lost something, it probably wasn't that important anyway."

"That's the spirit." Pawson smiled. "Oh, before _I_ forget," his smile widened, "would you please tell our mutual friend that his generous gift is very much appreciated."

"Will do. But that's just how he is. You scratch his back, he scratches yours."

"We couldn't help noticing some major construction," Judy said. "So, everything's fine?"

"Pretty much," Pawson said. "We're in the process of increasing our bed capacity by almost thirty percent, the whole radiology department is refurbished, as well as a few doctor's offices. Mine included." He smiled. "I'm pretty much working out of a corridor right now, but it's only for three weeks. My new office's gonna be splendid. I can't thank Mr. Big enough for what he did."

"Well, _he_ has a lot to thank for," Nick said, walking over to Judy and putting his arm on her shoulders.

Pawson smiled. "And I thought my nose was playing tricks on me. Is it too early to congratulate the two of you?"

Nick and Judy looked at each other. "Well, seeing that most of Zootopia will probably know before long, yeah, I guess you could congratulate us."

"My heartfelt congratulations!" Pawson shook their paws with a smile. "When you," he pointed at Nick, "decided to stay with her, I was pretty sure where this was heading."

Nich shrugged. "Most mammals did. Our Chief knew it, too. We were probably the last to know."

Pawson chuckled. "You can't imagine how often I've heard this one! Most interspecies couples say this at one point or another."

"Really?" Judy asked. "So there are more like us?"

"Of course. And I've seen most of 'em. Comes with being a doctor. Everyone is in need of medical care at one point of his or her life, and when you're attentive enough, you can see subtle hints leading to the truth. Most mammals dating someone from a different species are embarrassed when I find out, but since I am bound by my obligation to secrecy, they all come to terms with me knowing, some sooner, some later. It's all pretty hush-hush, of course." He suddenly frowned. "Society's still wanting to deny that these things happen. But they _do_ happen, and the numbers are increasing."

"So there's still hope for us," Nick concluded with a grin.

"Maybe. I mean, a high-profile couple like you, that's bound to turn some heads. Maybe it turns the right ones."

"Let's hope so," Judy said. "I, for one, would love to take our relationship out into public. Secrecy really isn't my kind of thing."

"So, let's keep our digits crossed then, eh?" Pawson chuckled, then he looked at his watch. "I'm awfully sorry to cut this one short now. I'd love to talk to you a bit more, but, you know. As far as your appointment is concerned, please ask the nurse at the reception. She'll do the rest."

"Of course," Nick said.

They said their farewells and left the treatment room. After having been given an appointment for his next examination, Nick checked the time. "Half past five. Far too late to go to Bunnyburrow now."

"What?" Judy stared at him, wide-eyed. "You wanted to meet my family today?"

"Why not? I sort of guessed you'd like to see them as soon as possible."

"Well …"

Nick smiled. "You don't know how to break _this_ to your parents, right?"

Judy sighed. "It was hard enough telling them that I had driven you away. Telling them that I mated with you is going to be even harder."

"Relax, Carrots. It'll sort itself out just fine."

"I hope so. I'd hate to fall out with my family."

"You won't."

"Sure?"

"Mark my words."

"You seem pretty confident."

"Hey, I'm Nick Wilde!"

"One of the most pessimistic mammals I know."

"Not this time, Fluff!"

Judy had to smile at that, a smile which lit up her features like an extra sun. Nick looked down at her, a peculiar feeling inside his belly. "Damn," he whispered, "I think I'm starting to fall in love all over again!"

"With me, I hope."

"I only have eyes for you." He started to close the distance between them before realizing that they were still standing near the entrance to the hospital. Countless animals were passing them, most of them not even sparing a glance at them.

Which was bound to change, should they decide to share a kiss then and there.

"Let's go home," Judy said.

Nick grinned. "Let's go to our _new_ home!"

Now Judy grinned, too. "You know, we should visit our _old_ homes and start packing our stuff, so we have at least a change of clothes and a few toiletries."

"Good thinking, partner."

They turned towards the exit simultaneously. After all, they had some work to do.

* * *

 **In my universe, Vivian Wilde was born in 1967. In case you want to learn more about her past, I kindly refer you to my previous stories, particularly chapter thirteen of "Now Your Nightmare Comes to Life." Yeah, my urge for shameless self-promotion knows no boundaries!**

 **The first Ford Mustang's a thing of beauty, and I think it fits our heroes like a glove. I first wanted to give them a two-seated roadster, a Chevrolet Corvette Stingray or something, but then I realized I need a convertible with four seats. You'll learn why in one of the next chapters.**

 **Yes, pepper spray really is used against bears. And I shudder to think what the tasers in the movie must be able to do. In the human world, most tasers produce about 50,000 volts to take down the victim. Just imagine what you need to take down a cape buffalo, one of the biggest and most aggressive mammals on the planet, despite being considered prey. (Yep, cape buffaloes, like Chief Bogo, are among the 'Big Five Game,' the animals which are most difficult to hunt on foot. Cape buffaloes are reported to have caused more casualties among hunters than any other mammal in existence. Taking one of them down with a taser must be a pain in the butt.)**

 **And just in case you're wondering, the "Pepper Spray plus Taser equals Fireball" stunt can be seen in the Mythbusters episode 146, "Fireball Stun Gun." Under special circumstances (in the immortal words of Adam Savage, a whole "crapload" of pepper spray is required), it really works!**

 **And yes, I know that the .50 BMG caliber bullet is for machine guns only, but this is Zootopia, where anything can be anything! ;-) (Edit: I actually had to change this a bit, since there are several .50 caliber bullets in existence. The ones I had in mind can also be seen on Mythbusters. Adam Savage once had to say this about them: Holding up a .357 cartridge and a .50 BMG cartridge, he pointed at the .357 first, saying: "This kills you." He then pointed at the .50 BMG and said: "This kills you and everyone else in the room. Are we clear?")**

 **Everybody who points out the "Calvin & Hobbes" reference to me will receive a special mention in my next chapter!**

 **I had the feeling that the relationship between Judy and Nick needs more development - since both were quite out of it during most of "Nightmare," I have some ground to make up, hence this and the next chapters. But the next one's going to be more interesting, for I will introduce a new character, who will play quite an important role as things develop.**

 **Thank you very much for reading! And please tell me what you think about what I'm doing here.**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	6. Chapter 6 - Off the Record

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **Things never turn out the way you expect!**

 **This is sort of an extra chapter. It was always planned as part of another one, but following a suggestion from Galaxyexplorer74, I expanded this into a chapter of its own. And I will also introduce yet another new character here, much earlier than I originally intended. More info on this after the chapter itself. (And no, it's not the one I mentioned in last chapter's author's notes.)**

 **These are the stats thus far: Almost 3,500 views, 52 reviews, 59 favorites and 95 alerts. You really made my day(s)! Work was hell over the course of the last few days, so your support gave me a much needed boost.**

 **Thanks a lot to my faithful reviewers: Galaxyexplorer74, PointyHairedJedi, Panjetarkan, DSLeo, one Guest, Rhodanos, hpalex13, Dirtkid123, and HawkTooth.**

 **Dear Guest, when writing the previous chapter, I was perfectly aware of what a hospice is, therefore I know that you're perfectly right - hospices are for bedridden people in their last weeks before death. (I worked at a home for the aged for almost two years, so I know the ins and outs of palliative and hospice care.) But I took the creative liberty to stretch reality a bit - it simply was more fun that way. And just so you know, I have quite a lot of things in store for Vivian - death is** ** _not_** **among them! I've really grown to like the vixen!**

 **And the winners are: DSLeo, hpalex13, and Rhodanos! They found the Calvin & Hobbes reference: "The truth shall set your teeth free." This is what Calvin says after Moe, the class bully, has punched him yet again. (In case you're wondering, this is a persiflage of a verse from the Bible, namely John 8:32: "And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." And yep, it's the very same motto which adorns the Original Headquarters Building of the US Central Intelligence Agency (CIA).) The comic strip which contains the one-liner can be found in the book "The Days are Just Packed" by Bill Watterson, published by Warner Books in 1993. (Oh, and one last thing, Rhodanos: Using Google to find it is okay - I never mentioned any rules, so you were simply researching, not cheating! ;-))**

 **This has actually been so much fun, I'm thinking of hiding more Calvin & Hobbes references in chapters to come. Or maybe a Star Wars or Star Trek reference. Or something from Harry Potter. Or a character from Lord of the Rings. Or … the possibilities are endless!**

 **So, let's rock this joint, shall we?**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Six

 **Off the Record**

 _It's not easy love, but you've got friends you can trust._

Queen: "Friends Will Be Friends" (Written by Freddie Mercury and John Deacon, from the album "A Kind of Magic," EMI, 1986)

* * *

Adrian Bogo entered Precinct One at precisely 7.30 am, as usual. And also as usual, he was greeted by the pudgy form of Benjamin Clawhauser, who was just in the middle of filling a bowl with his favorite cereal. "Morning, Clawhauser."

Clawhauser looked up, stopped what he was doing, and gave Bogo a smile. "Good morning, Chief!"

Bogo nodded. "Did anything happen tonight?"

Clawhauser shook his massive head. "Two cases of disorderly conduct, three drunk drivers, one attempted shop theft, thwarted by Officers Fitzherbert and Bjorgman. According to Sergeant Hamada, the night was quite uneventful. Here are the files." He held up a small stack of case files.

"Good." Bogo took the stack. "Anything else?"

"Uh, yes, Chief. Major Mastiff's waiting outside your office. He told me that he wanted to have a word with you."

Bogo gave one of his rare smiles. "Certainly. Did he give a reason?"

"Uh, no, sir." He made a pause and started fidgeting with his spoon. "Does it … does it have anything to do with Nick and Judy?"

"Probably. He keeps asking me about them."

"At least, this time you have good news."

Bogo shrugged. "Depends on your point of view."

Clawhauser tilted his head. "Excuse me?"

"I will explain during roll call. This time, you will attend, too. Spread the word. All available personnel will convene in the bullpen at 0900 sharp."

"Me too?"

"Yes." Bogo made a tiny pause. "And I suggest you bring the notebook."

"The notebook?"

"Yes, _the_ notebook." Without another word, Bogo turned around and stepped away from the reception desk.

And not a moment too soon. He had hardly left the immediate vicinity when he heard a high-pitched squeal behind him, courtesy of the most fan-girly cheetah in all of Zootopia.

Any closer, and Bogo would have suffered permanent hearing damage.

Climbing the stairs towards his office, he was greeted by the familiar face of Major Mastiff - what was left of it. The timber wolf put on a small smile. "Good morning, Adrian." Bogo nodded in a silent reply to the greeting. "I see you're still eschewing the elevator."

Bogo rolled his eyes. "Why use an elevator when you can reach your destination just as fast climbing the stairs?"

Mastiff chuckled. "You wouldn't say that if you had my knees."

Bogo looked down at the wolf's knees, easily visibly due to the short pair of trousers Mastiff was wearing. They looked swollen and arthritic, just as the rest of Mastiff looked a little the worse for wear. "I always say you're pushing yourself too hard, Adimar. Ever thought about economizing?"

"And leave all the fun to the kits? Thanks, but no, thanks."

Bogo sighed inwardly. Mastiff's eagerness to put his sense of duty above his personal well-being was the kind of stuff legends were made of.

Just like the rest of the mammal.

"You wanted to speak with me?" Bogo asked while opening the door to his office and motioning to Mastiff to follow him inside.

"I just wanted an update on my newest Homies. _If_ they ever manage to actually join my illustrious club."

Bogo pointed at the chair in front of his desk while sitting down on his chair behind it. "Actually, I have good news on that front. Lieutenant Hopps gave me a call yesterday, saying that she will join us on Monday, when her sick leave expires. And she might even have a surprise in store for us."

Mastiff, who had just sat down, straightened himself up in his chair. "Wilde?"

"Wilde," Bogo confirmed. "Seems like the fox made a full recovery, as far as his memories are concerned. He wanted to subject himself to a thorough medical examination today, and he agreed to an evaluation before rejoining our folds."

"Splendid!" Mastiff rubbed his paws. "Can't wait to see the two of them in action. Are they really as good as everybody claims?"

Bogo made a frown. "Didn't you read the files I gave you when you asked me for two new members for your squad?"

"Oh, I read them. And I must admit that I was quite jealous. Their track records put even ours to shame."

Bogo nodded. "I agree."

"But that's not what I was asking. Are they really that good a unit, as mammals, not as police officers? I need mammals who can get along well on a personal level, not just on a business level."

"You can probably answer that question better than I will ever be able to. After all, you meet them every week in The Watering Hole."

"Once a month at best. Wilde's not too fond of alcohol, so he doesn't go there all that often. And while Hopps joins us on a much more regular basis, she's not all that talkative when it comes to all things duty. I probably know more about her upbringing, her life in Bunnyburrow and her time at the ZPA than about what she does on the beat. And about what she does in her free time with Wilde."

Bogo raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I do know that they spend a huge portion of their free time together, and I also know that they call each other best friends, but apart from that they're, how shall I put it, they're quite shallow on the details."

Bogo nodded. "I'm actually not too surprised about that one."

"What do you …"

Right at this moment, the phone rang. Frowning, Bogo picked it up. "ZPD, Chief Bogo."

" _Good morning, Chief, this is Nick Wilde._ "

"Oh. What a pleasant surprise, Lieutenant Wilde," Bog said, looking at Mastiff, whose single eye widened. "What makes you call me at this hour?"

" _I just wanted to tell you that I was able to get through with my examination yesterday, and Doctor Pawson gave me a clean bill of health. I'm ready to resume my duties on Monday._ "

Bogo couldn't help smiling. "You're fit for duty? Music to my ears, Wilde!" Mastiff motioned for him to give him the phone. "There is someone who'd like to talk to you."

" _Really? May I ask who it is?_ "

Bogo handed Mastiff the phone. "Good morning, Nick. It's Adimar here."

" _Oh! Our new boss!_ " The voice was oozing sarcasm. " _Good morning, sir!_ "

Mastiff gave a grin. "What did I tell you about 'siring' me?"

" _To not to._ "

"Damn right."

Wilde gave a short bark of a laughter. " _Well, then I guess it's good morning, Uncle Massie_."

Mastiff nodded. "Much better."

" _I guess you're waiting for us to return to duty ASAP_."

Mastiff smiled. "All in good time, Nick, all in good time. You're on sick leave till Monday, right?"

" _I am_."

"Good. Enjoy it! And after you're done, I'd like to subject you to a thorough evaluation of your fitness for duty. I usually trust doctors to do their job, and do it good, but there are too many things at stake here. I wanna make sure your knowledge of police procedures is intact."

" _So do I. As a matter of fact, the Chief and I already have an appointment at 0830._ "

"Let's make it a bit earlier. Will give us more time to really put you to the test. Say, 0800 sharp, my office."

Mastiff heard a giggle, and then, to his surprise, another one, distinctly different. Higher pitched. Female. And he could have sworn he had heard the voice before. " _You know that this is awfully early for a nocturnal mammal like me,_ " Wilde said.

Mastiff grinned, looking at his wristwatch. "Says the fox who gives the Chief a call at twenty to eight."

" _Touché, Adimar! But no, I'll be there, of course_."

"Excellent. I'm looking forward to working with you. And Judy."

" _The feeling's mutual_." Wilde's voice.

" _Thank you, Adimar_." The female voice.

Mastiff frowned. "Is this … Judy?"

" _Yes, it is. I mean, yes, I am_."

Mastiff looked at Bogo, who shrugged. ' _Mates?_ ' Mastiff mouthed silently, and Bogo nodded. Mastiff broke into his famous, lopsided grin. "Good morning, Judy. The Chief told me that you'll be joining us on Monday, too, right."

" _You can count on it_."

"Excellent. Is there anything else? You wanna speak to the Chief again?"

" _No, we just wanted to bring you up to speed_."

Mastiff looked at Bogo, who made a gesture for him to give the phone back to him. "The Chief wants to have a last word with you."

Mastiff held out the phone, and Bogo took it. "We're expecting you on Monday, then. Have a nice weekend!"

" _Thanks. You too, Chief!_ "

" _Could you say 'Hello' to the guys out there?_ "

Bogo smiled. "I will, Wilde." Bogo disconnected without any further comment.

Mastiff grinned. "So _that's_ why you're not surprised."

Bogo shrugged. "When Hopps was in hospital, Wilde and I had a little one-to-one, and he told me he had fallen in love with her. And she'd obviously fallen in love with him as well."

"Just how recent is this?"

"I don't know the details, but I'd say less than 48 hours. Two days ago, Wilde was still suffering from amnesia."

"So he regained his memories, only to mate with her immediately afterwards."

"Probably."

"They do know this could spell trouble?"

"They do. Hopps knows the rules and regulations like the back of her paw, and even Wilde, who's much more lenient with rules, knows perfectly well what's at stake."

"But you're doing nothing about it." It was a statement, not a question.

"Chief Bogo knows nothing. Adrian does. They promised me that their private lives will stay private, and as long as they don't slip up while on duty, I don't see any reason to intervene. And I'd hate to do so anyway. Losing them, or just one of them, would be a tremendous loss to the ZPD."

Mastiff got up. "Well, then let's hope these two kits will get their act together."

"Oh, they will, believe me. Hopps is a professional, and Wilde's much too good at hiding his emotions. You will not see them hugging or smooching while on duty, I can guarantee you that. You leaving already?"

Mastiff shrugged. "You should know how it is. We have four open murder cases, neither of which is even close to being solved."

"Four? Not three?"

"One killed weasel. Stabbed in the back in a dark alley. Probably part of the current rivalry between two drug cartels. I could give you the details if you're interested."

Bogo shook his head. "You do your stuff, I do mine." He pointed at the case files on his desk. "It's not like I'm exactly short of work here."

Mastiff smiled. "Well, then I'll leave you to your work, Chief."

"You do that, Major."

Mastiff left the office, and Bogo stared at the closed door for another minute, deep in thought.

Mastiff was one of the few mammals at the ZPD whom Bogo called a friend. He had been a Sergeant when Bogo joined Precinct One, and they had worked as partners for almost four years, until Mastiff had been promoted to Lieutenant and transferred to Homicide Squad. And there, Mastiff had turned from being famous to being legend. Partly because he was one of the kindest mammals Bogo has ever seen, friendly with everyone, on good terms with virtually everybody he came across. But he was even more famous for his permanent refusal to stay dead.

He had survived being gored by a rhino. He had survived being shot five times. He had survived being beaten to a pulp. His left eye was missing, the empty socket hidden underneath an eye patch, and he was also missing two digits on his left paw. His body bore scars all over the place, and his face was disfigured by even more scars. Nobody at the ZPD had spent more days on sick leave than Mastiff, yet nobody had even come close to his track record, as far as solved cases was concerned.

When Mastiff had filed a request for Hopps and Wilde to be added to Homicide Squad, Bogo had hastened to comply. In theory, he was Mastiff's superior, yet he still felt like the rookie whenever he was dealing with him. Not that he minded. He felt nothing but respect, even adoration for the old timber wolf.

 _He should be sitting here_ , Bogo thought. _He should be the Chief, and I should be the Major_.

Most mammals had no clue why Mastiff had refused the rank of Chief when Bogo's predecessor had retired, but he had stayed where he was, so Bogo had to take up the baton. Only Bogo knew why.

Mastiff simply preferred putting his body on the line to solve cases over being mired in bureaucratic nonsense. He would have been content just to do patrol duty, as long as he was able to uphold the law and arrest those who didn't. And if it meant being injured in the line of duty, he was okay with it.

 _I need more cops like him_.

Bogo sighed, grabbed the first file from a stack next to him and started reading. Approving case files was far from being his favorite pastime, yet it was part of his job description.

* * *

McHorn looked up from his usual lecture of the morning paper when he heard an unfamiliar voice. "Hey, Brian!"

The rhino frowned upon seeing the lioness. "Suzie? What are you doing here?"

Suzanne Sarabi shrugged. "Beats me. Clawhauser told me to join roll call, but he didn't tell me why."

McHorn leaned back, the paper forgotten. It was an interesting conundrum. Why would somebody working in Service of Supply be needed to attend roll call? Only those officers working on the beat were obliged to attend. Looking around, he found out that the bullpen was much more crowded than usual.

And he wasn't the only one to notice.

"Hey, Bri, what's the deal?" Frederick Delgato approached his old friend and partner. "Did the Chief ask _everyone_ to come here today?"

"Looks like it. No idea why."

Delgato looked around, and his gaze fell on the lioness sitting next to Mchorn, on his other side, the chair usually occupied by Hopps and Wilde. "Helloooo, my beauty!"

Sarabi rolled her eyes. "How often do I need to tell you, Freddie, I'm not _your_ beauty!"

"At least once more. Every time."

McHorn chuckled. "Forget it, Delgato! She's impervious to your charms."

"Charms?" Sarabi guffawed. "Absence of manners, more likely."

Every chance for Delgato to respond was cut short by the door opening with a bang. There stood Clawhauser, a notebook clutched tightly in his paws, breathing heavily. "Guys, you won't believe …," That was as far as he got.

"ATTEN-HUT!" Just like every day, Thomas Higgins announced the immediate arrival of Chief Bogo. The cape buffalo entered the room at the very same moment, obviously unperturbed by the usual shouting and banging on desks.

"That's enough," Bogo merely said upon arriving at the lectern. Surprisingly enough, the noise died down quicker than usual, despite the fact that their number was so much bigger than usual. As a matter of fact, they weren't nearly enough chairs in the room to allow for everyone to have a seat, so some of the house staff were standing near the back wall. Everyone seemed to be eager to hear the reason for so many officers being present.

But before Bogo came to that, he stuck to his usual routine: congratulating Patrick Johnson on his birthday, announcing the upcoming annual physical evaluation, and finally issuing assignments. He did this in his usual gruff, no-nonsense, slightly dismissive manner, especially towards the rookies. Finally, after almost ten minutes of abject torture, he acknowledged the elephant in the room.

"I have two more items on the docket," Bogo said, taking off his glasses. "First, some good news. I received a phone call yesterday, from Lieutenant Judy Hopps. She told me that she has fully recovered from her bout with myxomatosis, and that she will return to duty on Monday."

His announcement was met with shouts of joy and relief. Despite (or maybe because of) the fact that she was the only rabbit officer within ZPD, Hopps was hugely popular, and the very real possibility of losing her to some stupid bunny disease had bothered everyone.

"Alright, that's enough," Bogo shouted, and everyone became calm again. "That's not all. Just this morning, I received yet another phone call, this time from Lieutenant Nicholas Wilde. He told me to say 'Hello' to all of you." That earned him a small laughter. "He also told me that he, too, has made a full recovery, that he has regained his memories. On Monday, he will subject himself to an evaluation of his mental fitness and his knowledge of rules and procedures, and when Major Mastiff and I consider him fit for duty again, he, too, will rejoin us."

Again, the whole room exploded in shouts of joy. Wilde was yet another officer whose loss would have caused everyone a lot of distress. His humorous, irreverent manner was a welcome relief to everyone, and most officers had missed his snarky comments and disrespectful attitude.

This time, Bogo waited for everyone to calm down. "So it seems Precinct One is finally going to be complete again. However, there is one last item I need to address right now." He made a pause. "And this one is strictly off the record."

That got everyone's attention. To Bogo, it usually mattered little if things were important for duty or not. He had used roll call to announce parties or the annual football match between the ZPD and the Zootopia Fire Department ZFD. Keeping things strictly off the record was almost completely unheard-of.

Bogo cleared his throat. "Both Hopps and Wilde told me that they have mated for life."

After one second of silence, the assembled officers managed to overcome their feeling of shock, only to erupt in one of the loudest cheer in decades.

A cheer which Bogo halted almost immediately by shouting: "SHUT UP!"

It took them a few seconds, but everyone became silent again. Everyone but Delgato.

"They _really_ told you, Chief?"

"No," Bogo growled. "They didn't tell the Chief. They told _me,_ the mammal Adrian Joseph Bogo." He made yet another pause. "And I don't think I need to remind you of the rules regarding fraternization."

This was met with complete and utter silence. Bogo had never made a strict separation between his post and his private life, and he had certainly never rubbed rules and regulations under everyone's noses, usually relying on the fact that most officers were familiar with them.

Bogo continued: "They told me as their friend, off the record. And I intend to keep it that way. I trust both of them to be enough of a professional to keep their private lives where they belong. As long as they are able to, Chief Bogo has no reason to intervene."

He raised his voice. "However, if it is brought to the attention of Chief Bogo that two ZPD officers have mated, he has no choice but to suspend both of them and subject them to a disciplinary hearing, a hearing which will probably lead to them being dishonorable discharged." He paused again. "I don't want that. Judy and Nick have proven their mettle over and over again. Losing either of them means the ZPD is weakened. Not on my watch!

"So, I don't care what you think of interspecies relationships. I don't care what you think about officers mating. I don't care what you think of Judy and Nick. But I _do_ care about having them work for the ZPD. And that in turn means I need to rely on each and every one of you to keep this under tight wraps. Nobody, and I mean _nobody_ , is to hear about that. This piece of information is NOT to leave this room."

He sighed. "I cannot give you this order, since I, as the Chief, don't know about this officially. But rest assured," he leaned forward on the lectern, making it groan under his weight, and said in his most menacing voice, "should I learn that any of you have made this public, my hind hoof will connect with the asses of said mammals so fast and so hard, they are not likely to return to earth within the city limits." He looked around. "Are we clear?"

Nobody said a word, everyone looked around uncomfortably. Finally, McHorn stood up. "I guess I speak for everyone here when I say: We're with you on this one, Adrian. We don't want to lose them either."

Bogo looked around, seeing most mammals nodding. "I hope so, Brian, because I am dead serious about this. Should any of you harbor any resentments towards Judy and Nick because of their actions, keep them to yourselves, and keep this under your hat. Any questions?"

Nobody said a word.

"Fine." Suddenly, Bogo grinned and took his wallet out of his pocket. "Now, cough up! Clawhauser?"

"Uh, yes," the cheetah said, opening his notebook. "Uhm, the odds for them mating before the 31st were …"

* * *

 **Let's hope they can keep quiet about this …**

 **I introduced Major Adimar Mastiff waaaayyyy back in Chapter One of "Now Your Nightmare Comes to Life." I originally intended Mastiff to be a mastiff - obviously -, but then it struck me that there can't be any domesticated dogs in Zootopia - there are no humans, so there can't be any animals accustomed to humans. So Mastiff had to be a wolf by default. And since Galaxyexplorer74 asked me to include a wolf, I decided to get Mastiff out of the drawer right now, much earlier than I originally intended. I left both the gender and the first name for Galaxyexplorer74 to decide, and he wanted Mastiff to be a male wolf going by the first name of Adimar - the name's Germanic in origin, meaning "famous for his kindness." So Mastiff needs to be kind, but I also wanted him to be a badass, hence the attitude and the injuries. I've given him quite an extensive background story in the meantime, in "How to Treat a Festering Wound," so if you wanna know more about him, read the story. And yes, he will make a return. It will take some time, but he will return! And he'll do so with a vengeance!**

 **I hope you're content, Galaxyexplorer74! And if not, please let me know, so I can make the necessary corrections! This is** ** _your_** **guy, after all! (Edit: He was fine with my ideas for Mastiff, all of them, both in this story as well as those I developed for "Wound.")**

 **Today's task: Find every Disney character not originally belonging to Zootopia (shouldn't be too hard). And if you're interested, return to Chapter Three to find the Star Wars reference! (It's not that difficult either.)**

 **I won't have access to a computer over the weekend. (I am attending what we call a "choir weekend." My choir is currently rehearsing the "St Paul" by Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. Fiendishly difficult, but such a joy to do! Just in case you're wondering, I'm a tenor - I'm usually assigned to sing the lines of all the annoying guys with high-pitched voices, like Judas Iscariot. My speaking voice is a baritone, but my singing voice is a high tenor, almost a countertenor.) So I won't be able to work on the story for three days. All I can do is respond to reviews and private messages using my trusty smartphone. And I would love to receive THOUSANDS of reviews!**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	7. Chapter 7 - Surprises

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **A lot of great things are afoot …**

 **A user named eng050599 has me involved in a hearty discussion about several topics which are concerned with biology, mostly. Now, I'm the first guy to admit that my knowledge of biology is lackluster, still I love our exchange of information very much. Keep it coming! And thanks for answering my questions! You can expect to find your vast amount of input in the upcoming chapters!**

 **On the downside, this discussion is also the reason why this chapter is so darn late - the input gave me a lot to think about, changing quite a lot of the things to come. But it also helped me whipping a lot of things into shape. The story's outline has always been more or less complete, but now it received a lot of finishing touches. Which means that you can expect the next chapters to be released somewhat quicker.**

 **On top of that, I have agreed to become beta-reader for a story named "Run" by Euphonemes. If you're interested in a surprisingly different take on the characters of Zootopia, check it out! I love it, therefore it receives my full endorsement. And support through beta-reading. As a matter of fact, it's quite the honor for me that an American author considers a German good enough to be the beta-reader. Thanks for your trust in me, Euphonemes!**

 **A quick look at the current stats: More than 4,600 views, 61 reviews, 63 favorites and 102 alerts. Your support is very much appreciated, as always!**

 **Thanks to all guys sending their reviews: Galaxyexplorer74 (Major Adimar Mastiff got his stamp of approval! Yay! No revisions necessary!), PointyHairedJedi, dsleoasguest, HawkTooth, hpalex13, Rhodanos, fordgt9, and boomballing56.**

 **A few guys, dsleoasguest for example, found some of the hidden Disney characters, but only Rhodanos found all four of them: Eugene Fitzherbert/Flynn Rider from "Tangled," Kristoff Bjorgman from "Frozen," Hiro Hamada from "Big Hero 6," and Queen Sarabi from "The Lion King." He also pointed the dialogue between Suzanne Sarabi and Frederick Delgato out to me, as being borrowed from "Pirates of the Caribbean" - the dialogue between Elizabeth Swann and Will Turner, when the latter delivers the sword to Governor Swann. He was perfectly right, that had been my inspiration, albeit** ** _unbeknownst to me_** **! I didn't even realize what I was doing there! Sometimes the way my mind works scares the heebie-jeebies out of me! Even when I'm not actively trying, I still remember one-liners in droves. (Biology may not be my forte, but remembering poems, one-liners, and songs sure is!)**

 **Somewhat surprisingly, the Star Wars reference in Chapter Three is still elusive. Hey, it's not that difficult! A little hint: It's a short one-liner from "The Empire Strikes Back."**

 **And now for something completely different … Part Two of the "Meet the Parents" sub-storyline - with a few revelations along the way …**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Seven

 **Surprises**

 _Tie your mother down, tie your mother down! Lock your daddy out of doors, I don't need him nosing around!_

Queen: "Tie Your Mother Down" (Written by Brian May, from the album "A Day at the Races," EMI, 1976)

* * *

Eight cylinders were moaning out their one-note song. A tiny crunching sound indicated the tires being in contact with the rather uneven road. The wind was rushing past him, threatening to drown out all other sounds.

Each and every one of those monotonous sounds was music to Nick's ears. Driving a vintage convertible through rural landscape was more fun than he could ever have anticipated. Even the lack of radio reception didn't bother him at all. It just left him curious.

"Seriously, we left Zootopia behind some, what? Some 100 miles. And there is no reception whatsoever?"

Judy shrugged. "The mammals who live in Bunnyburrow usually call this area 'The Valley of the Clueless.' It's more or less exactly in the middle between Zootopia and Bunnyburrow, and it's significantly lower than the surrounding countryside. Neither broadcast signal is strong enough to reach this area. Hence, virtually no radio reception."

"Poor sods!" Nick heaved a mock sigh. "And not even a USB port to connect your iPawd to. This car needs a new radio."

"You really want to ruin a classic by putting some modern gizmo with flashing lights into this."

"Uh, no." He heaved a mock sigh. "Seems like we need to sing something."

"Oh, Nick!" Judy chuckled. "Why can't you just enjoy the weather and keep quiet for a change?"

"Me? Quiet? In your dreams, Fluff!" He looked at Judy, grinning broadly. Since the weather was nice, a warm, dry, late summer's day, they had decided to drive with the top down, and Judy's long ears were flapping in the wind - a really cute image.

"I know." She grinned.

He cleared his throat.

" _Ridin' along in my automobile._ "

"Really?"

" _My baby beside me at the wheel_."

"Hey, _you_ are driving!"

" _I stole a kiss at the turn of the mile_." He leaned over quickly to give her a tiny peck on the cheek.

"Eyes on the road, Scruffy!"

" _My curiosity runnin' wild_."

"Running Wilde? Yeah, right!"

" _Cruisin' and playin' the radio_."

"The radio's not working, dummy!"

" _With no particular place to go_."

"Are we done having fun yet?"

He merely chuckled. "I'm _always_ having fun, Carrots."

"You? Really? The most pessimistic fox on this side of Bunnyburrow?"

"Yeah, speaking of pessimistic, any old and possibly _very_ jealous boyfriends I should be aware of?"

She shrugged. "Not really. I was pretty much preoccupied with becoming a cop. And most bucks considered me a weirdo. There were a few parents who thought I'd be a good catch though."

"You? A good catch?"

"Yeah, Slick, me! But honestly, most simply thought marrying into the Hopps family was the ticket to wealth and power."

"Is your family that rich?"

"For a family from Bunnyburrow, we certainly are. My parents are among the five biggest farmers in the Tri-Burrows. Back in 1998, the carrot crop fell through. Most farmers were struggling to survive, but my parents had been smart enough to diversify into different fruits and vegetables in the years before that. So we flourished while others had to throw in the towel. By the year 2000, we had been able to take over three other farms, effectively expanding our farmland by almost 50 percent - and most of it was really bountiful. Since then, we never had a bad crop. Sure, sometimes the apples, the carrots, the blueberries, some other fruit and vegetables, leave a lot to be desired, but there's always enough other stuff to keep the boat afloat. And when everything grows well, we basically rake in the money. On top of that, my father has struck business deals with several bakeries and grocery stores, both in the Tri-Burrows as well as in Zootopia. The blueberries I buy for you back home are from my family's farm."

"Your father struck the deal with the grocery store across the ZPD some five months ago, right?"

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

"I knew it! I kept asking myself why the blueberries suddenly tasted like the ones from your farm."

"That's because they were. Anyway, yeah, I guess you could call us wealthy."

"So the other families thought: Let our son marry one of the countless girls from the Hopps Family Farm, and a bit of their riches is sure to come rolling our way."

"Something like that, yes. Problem was, you instinctively recognize their line of thinking. The moment you meet them, you know it's all about the money, not about friendship, not about infatuation, let alone love. You go on a date with a buck like that, and he keeps droning about what a good catch _he_ is. Most tried the 'strong farmhand' line, completely failing to realize that this was probably the one thing that held the least appeal to me. But they kept talking and talking. At one point I invariably felt like I was sitting in a dentist's chair."

"Because of the pain?"

"No, because all I was able to say was 'Hmm' or 'Eh' or 'Huh.'"

Nick guffawed at that. "So, how many bucks did you, ahem, 'date?'"

"Let me see. Jamessir Bensonmum, Cedric Meadows, Aloysius Harrow …"

"Aloysius? Really? Let me guess, he was just as strange as the name suggests."

"You don't wanna know."

"I don't?"

"Believe me, you don't."

"Okay. So, those three?"

"Yes. Oh, and Kevin Sativus." She made a face.

"That bad, huh?"

She nodded vigorously. "Tried to mate with me on our first date. When that failed, he simply tried to get into my pants. And when _this_ failed, he got viciously drunk and threw up on my brand-new blouse."

"Ouch!"

She stretched languorously. "Don't worry, I got my revenge."

"Let me guess, you deposited him on his parents' doorstep, the dirty blouse draped over him? Then you rang the bell and demanded an apology from his parents?"

"Plus laundry service for my blouse, exactly, yeah. Kevin never even dared to look me in the eye after that."

"Sweet!"

"Isn't it? So, yeah, there were a few bucks, but none of them even reached second base. Most were so bad that even Dad disliked them, and he _so_ wanted me to marry a respectable buck and settle down on some farm." She gave a tiny smile. "Took him a while to come to terms with me being a cop, but I think he managed." She turned towards Nick. "How about you?"

He shrugged. "There were a few vixens in my time." He grinned. "Some of them made it past second base, but none of them achieved a homerun."

"So, one-night-stands?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"How many?"

He thought for a moment. "Five, unless I'm very much mistaken."

"That's still plenty."

"In more than ten years? Not really."

Judy made a pause. "I keep forgetting that you're almost eight years my senior."

"Why, thank you!" They chuckled.

Nick became serious again. "But yeah, there was one vixen who came close to mating with me."

"Really?" Judy sat up straight.

"Yes. I met her during one of the countless scams Finnick and I were involved in. She was a very talented hacker, and we needed someone to cover our tracks after some elaborate scheme to disrupt the cash flow from one bank onto the account of some despicable business tycoon. The scheme itself didn't work out that well, but Marian managed to delete every record we may have left."

"Marian, huh?"

"Yes. That wasn't her real name. She was obsessed with all this secret agent stuff, so she always called herself Lady Marian. She was the one who convinced Stan to be called Finnick."

"What was your alias?"

He grinned. "Promise to tell nobody?"

She returned the grin. "That bad?"

"Not bad, no, it's just … it was Robin Hood."

Judy let out a guffaw. "You gotta be kiddin' me!"

"In my defense, it was her idea, she liked it, and I used it only for four months."

"Admit it, you liked it, too!"

"I did, sort of, but it so happens that I like my real name better."

"Me too. It's so … _wilde_."

"Ouch! Bad pun alert!"

She grinned. "Yup. Me, the master of the bad pun. So, Robin Hood and Lady Marian? Just like in the ancient folklore."

"Yes, for a time we sure blurred the lines between business partners and lovers. Spend some nice time with her. We even incorporated her into our usual hustle. She was my wife, Fin was our child. Worked out spectacularly well. Much better than our relationship."

"What happened?"

He sighed. "I'm not really sure. We were close to mating several times, but something always held us back, me as well as her. I guess we were both looking for something the other wasn't willing or able to give. Be that as it may, we split amicably. Being a con mammal is an occupational hazard anyway, especially when it comes to relationships. Most just turn into train wrecks along the way."

"What happened to her?"

He shrugged. "She got busted."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Seems like she bit of more than she was able to chew. Next thing I knew, she was arrested and put behind bars. And that's where I lost her trail. No idea what happened to her after that."

"Huh." Judy made a pause. "Any regrets?"

"Regarding Marian? Not really. Our relationship was over at that point, and it just won't do for a con mammal to visit another con mammal in prison. You never know, you might end up there, too. So I never paid her a visit. And before you say it, it's not something I'm particularly proud of, but that's the way it is."

"Ever tried to make contact with her now? I mean, as a respectable police officer."

"No. To be honest, I haven't thought about her in a long time. That was almost eight years ago, you know. I doubt she still knows who I am."

"Come on! Everybody knows Nicholas Wilde."

He groaned. "Don't remind me." Nick certainly was a natural when it came to dealing with the public, especially when they had, yet again, served justice by arresting a well-known perp. But it didn't necessarily mean he liked the public attention. He had enjoyed it immensely, back when he had been quite new to it, but when you're unable to buy your basic household goods without being recognized by some other customers or the cashier, it tends to become awkward really fast. "Your fate is even worse, seeing that the whole Tri-Burrows knows their hero bunny cop."

Judy shrugged. "You know, the worst thing about being famous is that everyone wants to claim you for their own. In that regard, Bunnyburrow is much better than Zootopia. Everybody knows me, but most mammals don't care a fig about me. There are still a few idiots who despise me for being a trailblazer, but I get along with most mammals just fine. Besides, I'm my father's daughter, and should someone try and molest me, they'll have Stuart Hopps to answer to."

"Is he that scary?"

"When the mood strikes him, when he's really pissed-off?" She made a pause, and suddenly she sounded almost timid. "Yes, he sure is."

He looked at her briefly. All happiness seemed to have fled her, she looked pensive, concerned. "What's wrong, Carrots?"

She sighed. "Honestly? I'm afraid, I guess."

"Afraid? Of what?"

"Afraid of how he's going to deal with us being mates."

Nick didn't bother hiding his grin, remembering the conversation he had had with Bonnie and Stu, back in the hospital when he was watching over a comatose Judy. "Don't be afraid, Sweetheart. It'll work out just fine, believe me."

"You sure."

"I am."

"Perfectly?"

"More than perfectly." He made a pause. "That's a contradiction in terms, come to think of it."

"You seem awfully relaxed for someone meeting the parents."

"That's because I am. Trust me, Carrots, it's going to be marvelous. Just enjoy the day, the weather, the car, the whole enchilada."

She sighed again. "I wish I could."

He reached over and gave her a short scratch between her ears, something he had learned she liked very much. "Come on, Lieutenant, mammal up!"

Judy took a deep breath and shouted: "Sir, yes, sir!"

He grinned. "And if they don't agree with us being mates, maybe we can tie your mother down and lock your daddy out of doors."

"NICHOLAS PIBERIUS WILDE …"

* * *

When you have more than 250 siblings living under one roof at any given time, lending a helping paw when it came to household chores became second nature to you. That was why Billy Hopps was busy cutting onions and carrots for the stew his mother was preparing. Not that he needed to - he wasn't the only member of the Hopps household to help with cooking and preparing the tables. But after having seen Bonnie walk around as if she was carrying the whole Tri-Burrows on her back, he had decided to relinquish watching DVDs and help her instead.

Bonnie placed the stack of plates on the biggest table and heaved a sigh. Billy added the last carrots to the stew and stirred the huge pot, then he turned towards his mother. "Hey, Mom, what's up? Something wrong?"

"Judy still hasn't called. She was supposed to arrive by train, but she obviously missed the last two. And she wanted to give us a call one hour before arrival."

He smiled. "Hey, it's only half past six. There'll be three trains at least she can still be on."

"I know. It's just …," she sighed again. "If you had listened to her during our phone call, you'd be worried, too."

"Why? What happened?"

"You know that she was ill, right?" He nodded. "Well, her partner, Nick, he had cared for her, but after some freak accident, he lost his memory. And he obviously decided to leave both Judy and their job."

Whatever Billy had expected to hear, this wasn't it. " _What?_ "

"And now she's down in the dumps."

"Wait, Nick just _left her_?"

"He did."

"After all they shared, after all they feel for each other?"

"It certainly seems so."

" _Damn!_ " Of all his littermates, Judy had always been his favorite. Learning that she was suffering gave his ever-optimistic outlook a severe blow. On top of that, he had always gotten along fine with Nick. Being exceptionally tall for a rabbit and quite strong to boot, he had never developed a particular fear of foxes - he was one of the few rabbits in Bunnyburrow who had managed to beat up Gideon Grey, more than ten years ago -, so Nick's presence, while still quite unnerving to a lot of other bunnies in the Tri-Burrows, despite the fact that he had been there numerous times, had never bothered him all that much. And since both shared a love for music and had a similar sense of quirky humor, Nick had soon felt like sort of an older brother to him. Hearing of Nick leaving Judy was much more painful than he had anticipated.

Bonnie opened her mouth to say something, when the doorbell gave its cheerful chime. She frowned. "That's strange. Who could that be, at this time of day?"

"I'm getting it," he said, wiping his paws with a damp washcloth. "Probably just some beggars, maybe a peddler."

He left the kitchen crossed the hallway with long, purposeful strides. Reaching the door and opening it, his gaze fell upon a rabbit who gasped upon seeing him. "Billy!"

He stared at her in astonishment. "Judy!"

Before he was able to do anything else, she had launched herself at him, hugging him tightly. "Billy! What are you doing here? I thought you were still doing your internship!"

He chuckled. "Where've you been, Dude? I spent the last couple of months finishing my dissertation." He disentangled from her and pushed her back a bit, allowing himself to take a closer look at her. "You really should come home more often."

She gave him a somewhat sheepish grin. "I should. But, you know, what with making the world a better place …"

He grinned. "Isn't that always the excuse?" He turned his head towards the kitchen. "MOM! Could you come here, please?"

A few seconds later, Bonnie entered the hallway from the kitchen, stopping dead upon seeing Judy standing in front of Billy. "Judy!" she exclaimed, running over and taking her daughter into a hug. "It's so good to see you!"

"Good to see you too, Mom," Judy said with a smile.

"I thought you'd come by train!"

"Well, I planned to, but then I was offered a ride here."

"Really? Oh, Judy! You should have called me!"

Billy grinned. "Your mother had her tail in a twist over you. She was waiting for your call so she could go and pick you up from the station."

Judy gave another sheepish grin. "Sorry. Must have slipped my mind."

Bonnie let go off Judy and looked at her, smiling. "Always doing things on your own. You're almost as bad as your father is!"

Judy laughed. "I take that as a compliment."

Bonnie seemed to take her daughter's reaction in stride, but Billy raised an eyebrow. Hadn't his mother told him about one minute ago that Judy was down in the dumps? She sure didn't look like it. To the contrary, she looked … happy. More happy than he'd seen her look in years.

 _Something's not adding up here._

Judy looked up at Billy. "I should have come here sooner. I had no idea that Billy was back here, finishing his dissertation."

Bonnie beamed. "Oh, you don't know half of it! He already finished it, handed it in to the committee, and he also has his oral examination. And guess what? Summa cum laude!"

Now Judy beamed, too. "Really? Oh my goodness! Billy! Never knew you had it in you!"

Billy gave her what he hoped was a nonchalant smile. "That's me, always a bag full of surprises."

"Come on! You hated high school, and you almost flunked out of college!"

He shrugged. "They simply didn't teach what I wanted to learn."

"Which is?"

"Biochemistry, of course."

Judy smiled. "And what are you going to work on? The next big thing in fertilizing? A new method to keep the bugs off the produce?"

"You'd probably be surprised, but yeah, that's kind of what I am trying to work on. And _you_ gave me the idea."

"Really?"

"Of course. The savage predators case. Mammals turning savage after being hit with the Night Howler serum. I don't know if you know yet, but _Midnicampum holicithias_ has become a Class A Botanical now. You need tons of permits to be still able to buy the stuff. But most farmers still use them. They are still the most effective way of keeping bugs off the produce, even though they can be incredibly dangerous. Now, what if we were able to retain the bug-repelling qualities of _Midnicampum holicithias_ while at the same time reducing the psychotropic effects, should somebody accidentally swallow the stuff?"

"Wow! Sounds like quite the challenge."

"It is, and I'm not even close to finding the ultimate solution. The smell that drives the bugs away seems to be in direct correlation to the toxicity of the plant. Tests with genetically modified variants told me that much. But my thesis itself was received well enough, even though it's basically incomplete."

"So you're what now? A doctor?"

"That's right," Bonnie said, giving Billy an affectionate smile. "William Stuart Hopps, Ph.D.! Sounds good, doesn't it?"

"And Lieutenant Judith Laverne Hopps, ZPD," Billy said. "Doesn't sound that bad either. Dad told me. Congrats, Dude!"

"Congrats, Billy."

Bonnie took both of them into a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you guys!"

Both allowed their mother to hug them for a few more seconds, then Judy disentangled herself. "Speaking of Dad, where is he?"

"Oh, he should be on his way home. As a matter of fact, he should be here any minute now."

"He better be," Billy said. "The stew isn't going to get better."

"Relax, Billy! The stew can simmer for at least one more hour and still be tasty."

Judy smiled. "What with being a chemist and all, I'd think you'd know more about cooking."

"Har har!"

"Oh, I guess he has enough possibilities to improve his cooking skills," Bonnie said. "He already has a job."

"You have?" Judy gave him a huge smile.

"Yeah. And guess where I'm going."

"Uh, Zootopia?"

"Precisely! I'm going to work at the private lab of Dr. Madge Badger."

"Dr. Badger? Hang on, wasn't she the one who developed the Night Howler antidote?"

"She was. And she helped Lionheart hide the infected predators, which is why she lost her job at the hospital. She even spent a few weeks in prison. But after she had developed the antidote, one of the guys working on the research team, a mouse named Gerard Gusteau who runs a health care company, helped her in opening her own private lab, doing research on food, mostly. And it's successful enough for her to need a co-worker." He puffed his chest out. "Me."

"So you applied …"

"No, she specifically asked for me. My dissertation supervisor, Professor Mitis, was part of the team, too, so I met Dr. Badger in person. And I must have left a good enough impression for her to ask me if I wanted to join her team of scientists after I had finished my dissertation."

"She knows that it was your sister who put her behind bars?" Judy asked.

"Yep, she does, but she doesn't hold it against you. As a matter of fact, I guess she's even happy that you did, because she had found herself in an impossible situation. And she was able to help with curing the predators, and she took all the credit for it, so in the long run, there was no lasting harm done, to the contrary. Most mammals in Zootopia hold her in high esteem, which is why her lab's so successful. You want a thorough analysis on possible food intolerances for certain species? She's the woman!"

"That's great!" Judy couldn't help bouncing on the spot. "When do you start?"

"Oh, my first day's on Monday. I thought we could travel there together."

"We will, don't worry."

"Oh, I guess there they are!" Bonnie pointed down the farm lane leading from their farm to the main road. And sure enough, one of the numerous trucks owned by the family was slowly coming down the lane, coming to a stop right in front of the main building.

The doors opened, and three bunnies hopped out. Two of them were female and younger than both Billy and Judy. They dashed past them without a second glance, obviously eager to get inside. The third one was following them at a much more sedate pace, befitting the considerable bulk he was carrying around with him.

"Why is there some red convertible parked in our lane?" Stu Hopps asked instead of a greeting.

"You have a convertible?" Billy asked eagerly.

Judy smiled. "Well, it's not mine, technically, but …"

It was only then that Stu realized that his daughter was standing in front of him.

"Jude the Dude!" He took his daughter into an embrace. "I'm so glad to see you! Thought you'd come by train!"

"No, I came by car, obviously."

"But it's not yours?" Billy wanted to clarify that point.

"No, it, ehm, it belongs to …"

"My mother," another voice piped in. Everybody turned towards the newcomer, who turned out to be a lean, athletic red fox. "But since she has no need for it, it's as good as mine."

Bonnie recovered first. "Nicky!" She left the group to walk towards him, and to both Billy's and Judy's astonishment, she took him into an embrace so tender, you could have mistaken her for a mother welcoming her long-lost son back.

"Are you telling me he has his memories back," Stu asked Judy silently.

"He has. At least we hope so. He remembers the important stuff, at least."

Stu rubbed his paws, grinning. "Splendid!" Without another word, he approached Nick, too, to take him into a somewhat rough embrace. "Welcome back to Bunnyburrow, Slick! It's so good to see you!"

"It's good to be back here, Stu," Nick said gently.

Stu took a step back, eyeing him. "It's finally happened, hasn't it?"

Nick nodded. "It has. You can smell it, right?"

"Of course I can! Every self-respecting bunny will be able to smell her scent on you. So, are you going to pop the big question now?"

Judy flinched, looking at her father in disbelief. Before she was able to say anything, Nick said very matter-of-factly: "No, I won't. If I do, if I make this official, we will lose our jobs. Right now, we settled for moving in together."

"I see that all this amnesia stuff hasn't changed your attitude one bit."

"Certainly not. Yours?"

"My mind does not change with the rising and setting of a few suns."

"Excellent," Nick said, offering his paw to Stu, who returned the pawshake.

"Wait a second!" Judy exclaimed, pointing at Stu. "You knew?"

"Of course he did," Nick said. "Everyone did. Just look at Billy!"

Judy looked at her brother, whose grin was threatening to split his face in two. Looking back at her father, Judy stuttered: "B-but …," but she didn't get any further.

Nick walked over to her. "Judy, your parents more or less gave me the thumbs-up while you were lying in a coma. Just as my mother gave you the thumbs-up while I was battling with amnesia. It's perfectly okay."

Judy put her paws into her sides. "You knew?"

"Of course. I was the one talking to your parents, after all."

"And you didn't tell me?" Her voice had developed a dangerous edge.

Nick, hearing this, took a careful step back. "Why should I have done so? You're just too cute when you're nervous!"

"I was fretting over nothing!" Judy shouted. "You … you … slick, conniving … _fox!_ "

"Should I tie him down, so you can beat him up?" Billy offered.

"Oh no, the big bunny conspiracy!" Nick said, turning around and fleeing, with Judy being hot on his heels.

Stu and Bonnie were watching the spectacle, looking at Billy, who was approaching them, grinning. Bonnie sighed. "They are adorable together!"

Stu chuckled. "If a bit childish."

"Come on!" Billy said, grinning. "Have you never chased Mom around the farmland?"

Stu chuckled again. "Might have done that … _ouch!_ "

"Oh my, _that_ will sting in the morning!" Bonnie said.

Billy laughed. "He deserved it, don't you think?"

Stu nodded. "It's his own choice, after all. He picks one of my daughters, he has to live with the consequences! Even if they're painful."

" _Especially_ when they're painful!" Billy managed to say between bouts of laughter.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "You are impossible!" She turned towards their home again. "You two had better split them apart right now. Dinner's ready!"

* * *

 **Yep, this chapter may again seem quite pointless, but it's necessary, especially since I introduced another very important OC now, namely Billy Hopps. I've actually introduced him before, in "Wound," so if you read the story, you'll know quite a lot about him, especially in regards of his size. (You'll also find more details on the research team both Dr. Badger and Billy were a part of) He'll play an important role later in this story. His occupation in particular will come into play in the upcoming events, and with a vengeance!**

 **The "Valley of the Clueless" is a pun on the real "Tal der Ahnungslosen," which was an area in the German Democratic Republic, the eastern part of Germany that was under Communist rule. The satirical name derived from the fact that these areas had no reception of west-German television whatsoever. (And just in case you're wondering, I never experienced this - I was born in a small village in north-west Germany, part of the Federal Republic of Germany, or Western Germany. I have moved quite a lot over the course of the years, but I rarely left my home region. In fact, I'm still living there. And I've never been to the GDR while it was still in existence.)**

 **The song Nick sings is called "No Particular Place to Go," and it was written and performed by Chuck Berry. It's from the album "St. Louis to Liverpool," published by Chess Records in 1964. It's such a fun little song and a great joy to sing while "riding along in my automobile." ;-)**

 **I hid one character from the ancient, but extraordinarily funny movie "Murder by Death" in here - not that hard to find actually!**

 **There also is one line from the song "Turn the Page" by Bob Seger hidden in the chapter.**

 **And I also added a line from "The Hobbit" by J.R.R. Tolkien, for good measure. This one may be a bit tougher.**

 **The next chapter will, again, leave our heroes for the time being, to return to our favorite cape buffalo. So, until then! Thanks for reading, and, please, send me your reviews!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	8. Chapter 8 - The Dirty Game

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **This is the chapter which started the mayhem that became "How to Treat a Festering Wound." I have explained the details before, so I'm not going to do it again here. The author's notes are terribly out of date now, yet I decided to leave them as they were, so you can comprehend my line of thinking.**

 **Because even I didn't see this coming!**

 **In the author's note at the end of the last chapter, I told you that this one here was to be revolving around our favorite cape buffalo, Chief Bogo. And it does. However, in the midst of writing a bit of dialogue, it occurred to me that there is no definite explanation for several things happening in this story, for instance why Leodore Lionheart was, again, Mayor of Zootopia. (According to Disney Wiki, it is canon that he still is.) Combined with a thought that irked me for months, I decided to add an extended flashback scene to this chapter. However, when the chapter grew to more than 20,000 words in length, I realized that I was just plain silly and decided to turn this flashback into a story of its own. The name is "How to Treat a Festering Wound," currently two chapters long and, yet again, quite well received. It is even referred to on TV Tropes, thanks to a user named niraD! Now, if I can only have my stories be mentioned on ZNN … (Edit: It can be found on ZNN, courtesy of my dear friend, DrummerMax64, and it's obviously complete by now.)**

 **In the author's notes to Chapter Two of "Wound," I wrote that I would finish it first before returning to this one here. But then the worst-case-scenario happened: I was struck with Writer's Block!**

 **I know what I want to say, but, as it turns out, writing an extensive apology without sounding sappy or insincere is one hell of a task. Right now I'm stuck in the middle of the third chapter, not knowing exactly how to put the things I want to say in words.**

 **Fortunately, there still is this story. And since it had been simmering for a few weeks, I had a lot of great ideas for its development. I'm actually pretty psyched about it at the moment. This is why I deliver you the next chapter now. I will return to "Wound" soon - I wanna see that thing completed, come hell or high water! But right now, it's on hiatus until I finally manage to find the right words for Judy's apology. Might take me a few days, might take me a few weeks, I honestly don't know.**

 **Shouts of gratitude go out to these reviewers: PointyHairedJedi, Matri, Dirtkid123, Haradion, Galaxyexplorer74, hpalex13, tOSdude, HawkTooth, Rhodanos, Mr Punctual, and Hebbocake.**

 **And the stats are as follows: More than 6,300 views, 72 reviews, 70 favorites, and 118 alerts. Thanks for the constant support!**

 **Special congrats go out to Haradion, who, very quickly, found the three hidden thingamajigs in the last chapter. The line from "The Hobbit" by J.R.R. Tolkien was Stu's "My mind does not change with the rising and setting of a few suns." This is how Thorin Oakenshield answers Bard and Gandalf when he and his fellow conspirators were trapped in Erebor. The character from "Murder by Death" was, of course, Jamessir Bensonmum, played by the (always great) Sir Alec Guinness. And the line from Bob Seger's "Turn the Page" is "Eight cylinders were moaning out their one-note song," or rather, as the line goes in the song: "Listen to the engine moaning out its one-note song." Not bad at all, Haradion, not bad at all!**

 **And finally, Rhodanos managed to find the Star Wars reference in Chapter Three: "Laugh it up, Fuzzball!" (Han Solo at his very best!) Way to go, Rhodanos! But honestly, took you guys a little while, eh?**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Eight

 **The Dirty Game**

 _The men of steel, men of power are losing control by the hour._

Genesis: "Land of Confusion" (Written by Mike Rutherford, Tony Banks, and Phil Collins, from the album "Invisible Touch," Charisma/Virgin/Atlantic, 1986)

* * *

As Chief of ZPDs Precinct One, Adrian Bogo was the highest-ranking police officer in Zootopia, so in theory, he had no superior. But like every police officer, he was appointed by the City Council, therefore he was answerable to the Mayor and the councilmammals. Reporting to them once a week was one of the duties he was obliged to. This has always been the part of his job description he liked the least, even less than proving reports. Eight years ago, however, when Leodore Lionheart had become the 52nd Mayor of Zootopia, things had begun to look up for Bogo.

To call Bogo and Lionheart best buddies was sort of an understatement.

They had met in high school, and after a short episode of mutual dislike - two alpha mammals rarely connect that well from the get-go - they had slowly, but surely, warmed up to each other. And when both had been picked for the high school's football team, their friendship had truly blossomed. Along with two mutual friends, they had formed _Team SLAM,_ a name which had soon instilled fear in the other high school teams all over the country. In college, they had led their team to two MacAardvark Bowl trophies in a row. Both could have proceeded to playing for some National League team, but after careful consideration, both had decided to rather pursue jobs in law enforcement. Bogo had become a police officer, while Lionheart had started his career as a lawyer, turning judge a few years later. Both had fought to uphold law and order within Zootopia.

Which was one of two reasons why having Lionheart as Mayor was making the weekly rapport to the City Council bearable for Bogo. Both were kindred spirits, and as long as Lionheart was in office, Bogo knew he had a strong ally at City Hall. This was why he took this particularly duty very seriously, despite hating politicians and their constant scheming from the bottom of his heart.

The other reason, of course, was that they had been the best of friends for decades.

Bogo opened the door leading into the outer office. Approaching the table, he gave the female blackbuck a smile. "Good evening, Mrs. Capra. Is the Mayor available?"

The secretary nodded, returning the smile. "Of course, Chief Bogo. He's already expecting you. Just walk in, sir."

"Thank you." Bogo crossed the room, knocking at the other door. Despite hearing no invitation, he opened the door quickly, stepping into the office proper.

Leodore Lionheart was greeting Bogo standing next to his office table, arms extended, a friendly smile on his face. "Adrian! Good to see you! Horns still sharp?"

Bogo couldn't help grinning at that. "You know that sharpening them is illegal?" He embraced the lion, and for a few seconds, it looked like the two mammals were about to wrestle each other to the ground.

"But seriously, how are things?" Lionheart asked while sitting down behind his table, motioning to Bogo to take a seat in front of it.

"Rather uneventful," Bogo said, placing a few files on the tabletop in front of him. "Let's get this over with, shall we, Mayor?"

Lionheart nodded, his posture subtly changing. It was an old routine between them that as soon as someone threw the respective rank into the mix, the private exchanges were over, to be replaced by doing what they were paid to do.

For the next twenty minutes, both mammals worked with focus and determination. Bogo told Lionheart what the Mayor and the City Council needed to know about current police proceedings, Lionheart filled Bogo in on the latest political decisions which could affect the ZPD and the work of the police officers therein directly. As it was their nature, both were concise and efficient - not a word too much, no deviation from the agenda whatsoever. Just as it has been since Lionheart had taken up the mantle of mayoralty.

Until one of them dropped the rank and addressed the other one by name.

"And I guess that's it, Leo." Bogo closed the last file and leaned back in his chair, sipping out of his glass of finest bourbon. He was technically still on duty, but both Lionheart and Bogo had made it a habit of drinking one glass of bourbon during their rapport. _We've earned it_ , Lionheart had said when he had first offered Bogo a glass, and Bogo had silently agreed with him.

Lionheart heaved a sigh, smiling. "This bureaucratic dung heap is going to be the death of me yet."

Bogo raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you hate administrative stuff!"

"I don't, most of the time. But there's so much red tape wrapped around this place, it's a miracle we ever get things done around here."

Bogo shrugged. "Don't tell me! Sometimes it seems like 90 percent of my day is spent with reading reports or writing them." He emptied his glass, put it down and took a deep breath. "There's another thing I need to tell you, Leodore."

Lionheart made a frown. "Off the record?"

"Off the record."

"Ah. Interesting." He pointed at the empty glass. "Another one?"

Bogo nodded. "I guess I need it tonight."

While fetching the carafe from the mini-bar, Lionheart asked: "Personal problems?"

"Yep, but not mine." Bogo waited until Lionheart had refilled both glasses and sat down again, the bottle placed conveniently on the table, in case they needed more liquid fortification.

"Whose problems are they?"

Bogo collected his thoughts. "First of all, some good news: Seems like Lieutenants Hopps and Wilde both made a full recovery and will rejoin us next week."

Lionheart's smile widened. "Wilde too?"

"We think so. Major Mastiff and I are going to subject him to an evaluation, and when he passes, and I don't doubt he will, I'll reinstate him immediately."

"That's spectacular news!" Lionheart laughed. "I was so _worried_ that I may have been the cause for the ZPD to lose one of its best officers."

Bogo allowed himself a smile. Lionheart had been devastated to have frightened Wilde into a possibly crippling injury. "You better hope he doesn't press charges against you for physical injury."

"You think he might do it?"

"Wilde? Nah. I think he's fine. But I hope you learned your lesson. I always told you those fangs of yours scare the bejesus out of smaller mammals."

Lionheart sighed. "I know. But I keep forgetting it. It's tough when you are so big and look so mean."

"I know. We got some new recruits lately, more smaller mammals among them, and most of them tend to flinch when I get up close and personal."

"Must be your smell," Lionheart joked, and both laughed.

"Yeah, speaking of smell …" Bogo became serious again. "They've mated."

Lionheart froze. "Mated?"

"At least that's what I gathered from what they told me. Wilde told me he's sure our pred officers, and maybe most other officers as well, will be able to smell Hopps on him, and Wilde on her. So they must have scent-marked each other."

"That's a problem."

"And _that's_ an understatement. Like I told you before, if they are accused of fraternization, I have no choice but to suspend them and subject them to a disciplinary hearing. And those usually end with a dishonorable discharge."

"Which would be a damn shame."

"My thoughts exactly."

Lionheart leaned back. "Why are you telling me this, AJ?"

Bogo steeled himself. "Well, the ZPD enforces the rules, but the City Council makes them. I just wanted to ask you if you could consider trying to push through a motion to abolish the fraternization rules."

Lionheart made a pause, obviously in deep consideration. "The rules are there for a reason."

"I know, and you know that I usually have no problems with these rules. But you will find no police officer who doesn't think that this very rule belongs in a trash can. It doesn't solve problems, it creates problems."

"You sure?"

"I wouldn't tell you if I wasn't, Leo."

"Why?"

"Most officers are friends with each other. The lines between duty and private live are blurred on a constant basis. Believe me, whenever we lose an officer, it's hurts, badly. And I know what I'm talking about, I've been there myself, as you know, numerous times. I can't imagine it hurting any worse when you lose a loved one. What's the difference anyway? Why is an intimate relationships considered worse than close friendships? Is it so bad for the public to see officers who are in love with each other?"

Lionheart made a face. "In their case, it might. Prey-predator relationships are still something the public frowns upon."

"You may be right, but you know just as well as I do that they exist, and not exactly in small numbers. And that's why I think it is high time to show the public a high-profile prey-pred couple. Might work wonders with public perception."

"Or it may incite a riot." Lionheart sighed. "Listen, Adrian, I'm with you on this one; I think it's about time the public warms to the fact that there are a lot of prey mammals who're in love with predators. This prejudice needs to end, and if I had my way, I would see to it that it ends yesterday. But I think we won't be able to pull this off. Not for Hopps and Wilde, and not for anyone else. The public will go absolutely bananas."

"Maybe you're right, but maybe you aren't. The citizens of Zootopia love Hopps and Wilde. They might love seeing them as a happy couple."

"You're aware that you're using the subjunctive here?"

"Yes, I am, but don't you think it's a risk worth taking?" Bogo leaned forward, his intense gaze focused on Lionheart. "Don't you think you owe it to them? After all, you wouldn't be sitting here, if not for Hopps and her words during the press conference. Do you remember?"

"As if it happened only yesterday." Lionheart sighed again, emptying his glass and reaching for the bottle. "You want me to file a motion, trying to get the City Council to abolish the laws and rules against fraternization."

"I think it would be a splendid idea, yes."

Lionheart placed the bottle back on the desktop, then he squinted. "Damn it, why couldn't you have come _three months ago_?"

Bogo frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You remember that we just elected ourselves a new City Council last month, right?"

"Of course. Wait, did I forget to congratulate you for being re-elected?"

"Relax, you didn't."

"Good. You had me worried there for a second. Well, as far as the City Council is concerned, I don't care. Politicians come and go, and the next one is just as bad as his predecessor." Bogo couldn't help grinning. "Even you, Leo."

Lionheart didn't react to the jest at all. To the contrary, he seemed to become even more stern. "You know, AJ, sometimes you really should follow the news. Might save you a lot of work."

"What work?"

" _This_ work, for example. Had you followed the news, you would never have asked me to do this. You would know that the last thing I can do right now is try and get rid of the laws against fraternization."

"Alright, so enlighten me!"

Lionheart sighed, got up and walked to his office's window, glass in hand. Looking out, watching the sunset, he said: "The forces of democracy took a severe beating during the last election."

"Is that so?"

"Have you heard of the AfZ?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"They're a rather new political player in Zootopia. The party was founded little less than three years ago, shortly after I was reinstated as Mayor. A lot of mammals didn't like this all that much, and some of those decided to offer an 'Alternative for Zootopia,' hence the name. They call themselves conservative and great proponents of law and order. Their electoral campaign was full of nothing but a lot of catchy slogans. If they are to be believed, they want to strengthen the police, they want to lower taxes, they want to promote education and reduce unemployment, among other things. Worthy causes certainly." He made a pause which quickly turned pregnant. Finally, after having waited for almost thirty seconds, just looking through the window, he finally added: "Apart from the fact that they failed to tell how to pay for all those fabulous undertakings, especially given the state of the city's finances, all of this is, of course, just a front. If you take their party manifesto and read it thoroughly, which I have, you'll quickly find out that they are, at their core, little more than a xenophobic, speciesist, elitist bunch of assholes, consisting of nothing but prey mammals. Prey supremacists at their worst. Think of Bellwether, and crank it up to eleven. That's the AfZ for you."

"So what? That's nothing new. There've always been parties like that."

"Yes, but the difference is, during the last election, the AfZ, out of nowhere, got 19 percent of the votes. They cleared the 5-percent clause with ease." He looked over his shoulder at Bogo. "At the same time, my Democratic Party lost almost 13 percentage points and is now sitting at 44 percent, while the Republicans won 30 percent. We lost seven seats, and our natural ally, the Green Party, fell from eleven to three percent, losing all their seats. It's just us, the Democrats, the Republicans, and the AfZ. We hold 24 seats, me included, the Republicans have 17 seats, and the AfZ has 10 members in City Council. No majority for anybody."

He emptied his glass in one gulp. "So I was forced to enter a coalition with the Republicans, and while they may be more reasonable than the AfZ, they still are a conservative bunch and really hard to work with. But I cannot in good conscience allow them to enter a coalition with the AfZ. Their head probably is the most sneaky, conniving bastard I've ever come across, and you know the mammals I have come across."

"Who is this mammal?"

"His name's Santino Coniglio, and he's one hell of a rhetorician. One of my fellow party members once described him as being able to talk the fins off of a fish and convince it to go for a swim afterwards. He's _that_ good. Out of his mouth, even the most outlandish, sometimes even outright evil political schemes sound at least reasonable. He's the main reason why the AfZ's so successful. Without him, the party would share the fate of most of these small parties and vanish into obscurity after a few smaller successes."

Bogo nodded. "So you think there's no way you have enough political leverage to force something through, like the abolishment of the fraternization laws?"

Lionheart snorted. "Not only do I not have enough political leverage to force something like that through at the moment, I have _almost no political leverage at all!_ It's as if the election tore my claws and fangs out! It's not just the fraternization laws. For _everything_ I want to get done, I need to walk to the Republicans, sometimes on my knees, and _beg_ for their cooperation. And those sons of bitches play me like a fiddle, always threatening me to join forces with the AfZ to wring concessions out of me. And I have no choice but to play along." He turned around, facing Bogo again. "Believe me, the moment I file a motion towards abolishment of the fraternization laws, that's the moment the Republicans and the AfZ will skin me raw."

He made another pause. "After you'd told me why the fraternization laws existed, I looked the case up, and it's a bit more complicated. The original idea was simply to ban firearms to prevent a repeat of the unfortunate events, a motion proposed by the Democratic Party. They had the majority back then, but to do anything about the problem, they needed a two-third majority to do away with the Second Amendment, the right to bear arms at all times, and they simply didn't have it. They needed the Republicans to play ball, so to speak. The Republicans, however, were having none of it. They liked their guns, and they were big proponents of the Second Amendment. And while they publically agreed that firearms were a huge problem, especially given the fact that those for bigger mammals can literally cause mass destruction among the small ones, they simply wanted to hold onto their nice, shiny toys."

He sighed. "And that's where things took a turn towards the ugly. Back then, the ZPD's Chief was a jaguar named Barbara Kendrick. She was hugely popular with the citizens of Zootopia, but she was leaning towards the Democrats. Needless to say, the Republicans hated her with a vengeance. Her political opinion was very well known, because her husband, Miles Kendrick, was a councilmammal himself, a Democrat, obviously. On top of that, he also worked for the ZPD - I believe he was a leading member of the TUSK team."

"Wait a second," Bogo said. "He was a cop _and_ a councilmammal? Isn't that illegal?"

"No, it isn't. It has just become uncommon by now. But there are no laws in existence that could prevent a cop from also working as a politician." He gave a grin. "So if you want to join our folds …"

"Hell no!"

"Thought so." Lionheart made a pause. "The situation was this: The Democrats wanted to ban firearms, the Republicans wanted to prevent it, but after the very public shooting within the ZPD, public pressure was immense. The press gaggle demanded actions. Something needed to be done about it, and quickly. When the Republicans realized that public opinion may force their paws if they hesitated any longer, they were very quick in proposing the fraternization laws, making the offer to vote for the abolishment of the Second Amendment if the Democrats in turn agreed on making relationships between police officers illegal."

"Just to spite the Kendricks?"

"Just to spite the Kendricks, yes."

"That's ridiculous!"

"It is. But you know how it is with public pressure. Or why, do you think, I decided to imprison the savage predators?"

Bogo nodded. "Was it that bad?"

"You mean the situation back with the firearms and the fraternization laws? Obviously. The Democrats had no choice. They wanted to do away with the firearms, so they teeth-gnashingly agreed on the deal. Miles Kendrick had to resign his post with the ZPD, and he wasn't the only one. And from that day forth, fraternization became a punishable offense. Probably the reason why no cop in his right mind wants to become a politician anymore.

"Anyway, as you can see, the Republicans were the instigators of the fraternization laws, and it's highly unlikely they want to have them changed any time soon. Not to mention the AfZ, who probably don't care all that much about the fraternization laws themselves. But you can rest assured that they'll be salivating over the opportunity to kick me in the teeth. And who knows? Maybe they'll like working together. And if they do, they'll have no qualms kicking me out of office. And you can bet your ass that things will take a nosedive from there."

"Don't you think you're painting the picture in much too dark colors?"

"Maybe I do, but in this job, one of the things I learned the hard way is to always be prepared for the worst. Less chance of suffering ugly surprises."

"So what can we do?"

"At the moment? Nothing. We can only hope that Hopps and Wilde will know how to behave, and for the next election in four years to turn out better than the last one. But between you and me, I guess that's too much to ask for."

"You sure?"

Lionheart looked out the window again. "Unfortunately, I am. As long as the AfZ keeps getting stronger every day, there's no chance in hell for me to ever push anything like that through. And if push comes to shove, even my political future may be on the line."

"Come on! You got around 70 percent of the votes!"

"Yes, but all this won't be worth the fur on a skunk's butt if I'm forced out of office prematurely. It's bad enough that my name is still connected to the Missing Mammals case."

"Well, you _did_ screw up there."

"I know. I should have come talk to you before making these decisions."

"Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, Leo." Bogo sighed. "I had so hoped you'd be able to do something about the fraternization rules."

Lionheart turned towards his friend again. "Well, well, well! Adrian Bogo, the softie! Don't tell me you have a soft spot for the two of them!"

Bogo allowed himself a small grin. "You know what? I do. And if you tell anyone, I'd have to kill you."

Lionheart chuckled. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me, you old romantic. Oh, by the way, how much money did you make?"

Bogo frowned. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Come on! You told me there was a betting pool at the ZPD. And knowing that you cannot resist a good bet …"

Bogo shook his head, smiling. "Sometimes I'm still surprised how well you know me. To answer your question, I made almost 400 bucks. But our overall winner was McHorn."

"Brian McHorn? The rhino?"

"And ex-partner of Wilde, if only for a short time. Not only did he predict that they would mate, just as I did, he also correctly predicted the month."

"Earning him, what? 700?"

"More than one grand."

"Wow! Was the pool that big?"

"You have no idea. Everybody from Precinct One was involved, plus some officers from Precincts Four and Five, Sahara Square and Tundratown, who join forces with us occasionally. There've been almost 9,000 bucks in the pot. Most guys who predicted for Hopps and Wilde to mate, but got the date wrong, got just twenty bucks or so, but some cashed in big."

"Like you." Lionheart smiled and sat down again. "You know, Adrian, I'm happy that you're finally loosening up a bit. You would have been raving mad upon learning of such a betting pool ten years ago. And now look at you."

Bogo shrugged. "I can't help it. I like the two of them. Yes, her eagerness still annoys the heck out of me, and his constant snarky comments drive me up the walls. But I like them. Everybody does. You should have heard the roar when I told the officers during roll call that they would rejoin us on Monday."

"Who would have thought, eh?"

"Who would have thought indeed!"

Lionheart sighed. "I'd love to help them, Adrian, but I can't. Not now. Probably not for a long, long time."

"It was worth a try." Bogo got up. "Give Rebecca a hug from me, will you?"

"Of course. And thanks." Lionheart got up, too, walked around the desk and hugged his friend again. "You wanna come visit us tomorrow? We're going to the stadium. Zootopia Zingers versus Buffalo Bulls."

Bogo smiled. "Hell, why not? Beats watching alone at home. Who'll be going?"

"Just us, Rebecca, our three cubs, you, and me."

"Cubs?" Bogo chuckled. "Jerome's almost as big as me. When do you leave?"

"Well, pre-game ceremonies start at six pm, and since we have our own VIP box, we can take our time. How about five pm? Should give us plenty of time to get there."

"Five it is. Till then, Leo!"

"Till then, AJ."

* * *

 **And so the political scenery is set. Yes, it will become quite important later. In case you can't tell, I'm hugely interested in politics (which is why it's so much fun to beta-read the story "Run" by Euphonemes). Although I have to admit that I'm not particularly fond of politicians. Or, to use the infamous words of Ashley Williams (the Gunnery Chief from "Mass Effect," not the guy from "The Evil Dead"): "And that's why I hate politicians."**

 **As a matter of fact, this whole chapter, and the whole topic I deal with here, is very close to my chest. To understand why, a short look at Germany's political system is needed. Which is also important for this story, because, despite the American names, the parties I created here are, more or less, based on what we have in Germany.**

 **We have the conservative party, called Republicans in this story. The German equivalent would be the "Christlich Demokratische Union Deutschlands," CDU for short. Next, we have the social-democratic Democrats, based on the "Sozialdemokratische Partei Deutschlands," SPD. I left the liberal party out completely, and the Green party is a mere footnote, because all I need for this story are three parties.**

 **The third one is the reason why this chapter is so dear to me.**

 **If you know the political system of Germany, you'll probably have recognized it immediately. The AfZ's German counterpart, the "Alternative für Deutschland," AfD, was founded in 2013. It started as a Eurosceptic, conservative party, but after some inner-party turmoil, all that remains today is an ultra-conservative, right-wing populist party whose political agenda borders on being xenophobe and sometimes outright racialist. For example, they entered the last communal elections with the slogan "Schwarz-Rot-Gold ist Farbe genug," which translates to "Black, red and gold (the colors of the German national flag) are enough color." If that isn't prove that they hate colored people, I don't know what is. Following the huge fugitive problem we have in Europe nowadays, the party enjoyed staggering success in all the elections they competed in.**

 **Can you imagine what I think of them? Yes, indeed, I hate the AfD! As a matter of fact, Lionheart's words in this chapter are mine. I was once a card-carrying member of the SPD, and although I left the party over some personal issues, the social-democratic politics still are my favorite political point of view. And I guess this chapter proves it.**

 **Now, the intricacies involved with the fraternization laws were insinuated in chapter nine of "Nightmare," so you'd be well-advised to go back and read it to understand what I'm getting at here.**

 **Speaking of which, this chapter actually received quite a big overhaul because of this, because of the abolishment of the Second Amendment. I know this is quite a sensitive topic at the moment, particularly in regards of the Stoneman Douglas High School shooting incident. But in my opinion, the right to bear firearms always is a problem. Guns kill people, plain as that, and that can never be anything else but bad. In Germany, to be allowed the right to bear arms, you need a ton of permits, and I think that's a good thing. I feel quite safe in my daily life, and I guess I wouldn't feel too safe if one of my customers would enter the shop with a barely concealed AR-15. Never understood why anyone who isn't a soldier would need an assault rifle anyway. But that's beside the point. I'd love to hear that the American people finally decided to ban firearms for good.**

 **And no, this is not debatable. In case you disagree with me here, keep your opinion to yourself, because I couldn't care less about it. It's perfectly pointless to send a comment my way, telling me that my opinion on that matter is wrong. I will delete it immediately and not respond to it. And that's the bottom line, 'cause TheCatweazle said so!**

 **(Edit: Okay, I have to rescind this one a bit. I received a few comments in which I was accused of banning a liberal discussion of ideas. That wasn't what I had had in mind. I love discussions, and if you're willing to have one with me, I'm your guy. Sadly, I had discussions like these before, and they have been all but liberal. To the contrary, in most cases, I was told in no uncertain terms that I was wrong, that I was an idiot for not understanding that the right to bear arms was just a basic human right. A notion I reject wholeheartedly, obviously.**

 **The problem is, the defenders of the Second Amendment love to stress the right of having a liberal discussion, while at the same time flatly refusing my own liberal rights, my basic right of having my own opinion. Happened to me several times already, which is why I'm quite sensitive in regards to that particular topic.**

 **Since I'm not the least bit interested in being told that I'm an idiot, since I'm not the least bit interested in hearing that I'm wrong without being proven wrong, since I'm not the least bit interested in discussing with people that don't even listen to me and to what I have to say, I'd rather tell those people to shut up.**

 **If you think differently, if you are willing to enter in a really liberal discussion of opinions, feel free to let me know, and I'm sure to respond. But if you just wanna tell me that I'm an idiot, don't expect a reply. And _that's_ the bottom line.)**

 **Now, Santino Coniglio. The name Coniglio is actually Italian, and I won't tell you now what kind of species he is. Maybe you can guess … We'll actually meet him soon, so stay tuned!**

 **There's just one reference to a movie in this one, to the infamous "This is Spinal Tap" by Rob Reiner. A bit obscure, granted, but not that hard to find actually. (Edit: Nobody found it so far …)**

 **Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think. (Unless you wanna tell me that the right to bear arms is a good thing, but I'm repeating myself here.)**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	9. Chapter 9 - The Evil That Mammals Do

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **Somehow, the stars were aligned against me over the course of the last few days!**

 **First, my back was molesting me quite a lot over the course of the last three weeks. (In case you're interested, I'm suffering from a chronic condition called sacroiliac joint dysfunction. Not dangerous, not serious, but very, very painful!) Then, a few days ago, my computer decided to call it quits. Again, nothing a new memory module wasn't able to fix, but for a few days I was without my trusty computer. Now everything is fixed again, my back as well as my computer. Time to get serious again!**

 **Speaking of serious, this chapter will be, yet again, a complete departure in tone, just a small reminder that there are quite a lot of mammals out for blood …**

 **Thanks to my ever-faithful reviewers, namely PointyHairedJedi, Haradion, RandomNobody37, Galaxyexplorer74, eng050599, Wolfs-Lp, HawkTooth, hpalex13, Dirtkid123, and an anonymous guest. (I'm not exactly sure what you wanted to tell me. Your words were quite cryptic …)**

 **A quick look at the stats: More than 7,200 views, 82 reviews, 76 favorites, and 126 alerts. Some of you obviously like what I'm doing here! I LOVE IT! Thanks a bundle!**

 **This chapter is rather short, at least for me, because I merely need to explain a few things and introduce another new character. Can you guess who it is?**

 **Right, it's Santino Coniglio! Whose species nobody has been able to deduct so far. Surprising, really! All you need is an online dictionary, like the one I'm using. (w.w.w..d.i.c.t..cc, in case you're wondering. Just remove the superfluous dots, keeping just the one behind www and the one before cc.) Well, it's too late now …**

 **Speaking of not being able to deduct, nobody has found the "Spinal Tap" reference so far. Come on! It's such a famous concept!**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Nine

 **The Evil That Mammals Do**

 _You're my enemy. All that we had has gone away. There are times that fade away, but you'll still be my enemy._

Fozzy: "Enemy" (Written by Rich Ward and Rick Beato, from the album "All That Remains," Ash Records, 2005)

* * *

"Mr. Kaffer?" The voice of his secretary sounded over the intercom. "Mr. Coniglio is here to see you, sir."

"Send him in, Cynthia. And thank you." Moritz Kaffer took a sip from his glass and straightened on his office chair. As much as he, personally, liked Coniglio, he was never able to shake the feeling of having been given a paw grenade with a pulled pin. When the mood struck him, his guest, however small a mammal he was, could be more terrifying than the most ferocious tiger.

And considering the way he marched into his office, it looked like Coniglio had been struck by the mood.

"Moe," he said without preamble, even before he had reached the desk. "I hope you have a good explanation for Bellwether molesting me over the phone every five minutes. And make it a _damn good explanation!_ "

Kaffer shrugged before pointing at the empty chair in front of his desk. "What are the alternatives, Sonny? You know just as well that if I kill her right now, probability is high that her corpse would lead the ZPD here."

Coniglio had ignored the offered seat. Standing next to the chair, his ears erect, his left hind paw pounding the floor with a furious speed, his posture radiated unrestrained fury. "Bullshit!" he growled. "It's easy to make a corpse disappear! You've done it before!"

"Yes, I have," Kaffer responded matter-of-factly, "but as of now I cannot be certain that their escape from Elkatraz has been seamless. Wallace and his mammals have burned the speedboats, so forensics should come up empty, but you never know. Right now I want to avoid anything that could alert our esteemed ZPD personnel to our existence. Our situation is not that established - it is still possible for us to lose it all. When Ramses has finished his job, things will be different, but until then, keeping everyone involved alive is my preferred choice of proceedings."

"So I'm stuck with the devious sheep."

"I am afraid you are, at least for the time being."

"How long?"

"Half a year at the longest."

Coniglio groaned. " _Half a year?_ What did I do to you to deserve this? You wanna torture me? She's the most annoying piece of trash I've ever met!"

"Yet she may still serve a purpose."

"Which is? Come on, Moe! She's completely and utterly useless! Her connections are stone cold dead, her knowledge of political proceedings is prehistoric, there's absolutely nothing she can help me with!"

"I thought as much. However, I was talking with Ramses previously. He has great plans for our new serum, and when everything works out the way he expects it to, she might still serve a purpose."

"What purpose?"

"She can serve as an example, a test bed, so to speak."

"For the new serum? Moe, she's _prey!_ Last time I checked, we wanted to use the stuff on _predators!_ "

"We will, do not worry. She will merely serve as an example for the effects of the serum on other mammals."

Coniglio paused. "You want her to be mauled by a predator." It was a statement, not a question.

"That is indeed the plan, or at least part of it, because I have a very special predator in mind." He raised his hoof. "And before you ask, I will not tell you. The less you know, the better."

Coniglio hesitated, then he shrugged. "In other words, I can only hope for Ramses to finish his work quickly."

"I could not have put it better myself."

Coniglio gave him a wry smile. "Yeah, speaking of Ramses, I'm surprised you're still rooting for him." Every trace of friendliness left Kaffer in a split-second. Coniglio continued: "You're growing soft, old buddy! If someone had fooled you like that twenty years ago, you would've skinned him alive."

"As for me going soft, I would not count on it."

Coniglio raised an eyebrow. "So why's he still here?"

"Because I need him, simple as that." Kaffer sighed. "Believe me, when he and Bellwether left our project, I tried my utmost to pick up the pieces. Unfortunately, creating the Night Howler serum is tricky business. It consists of about _400_ different ingredients, and they all have to be precisely measured to reach the desired effect. If the mixture is incorrect by just the slightest amount, the result is … less than satisfactory. The _Midnicampum holicithias_ plant, while a very important ingredient, is only part of what makes the toxin so potent. Ramses knew the formula, I did not, and when he left, he failed, or even outright refused, to tell me before he did. I must have tried thousands of different combinations, none of which were working. In most cases, the serum was too weak, so the mammals did not properly turn savage and retained at least parts of their mental faculties. Or the flight instinct overpowered everything else, so they started running away instead of attacking other mammals. In some cases, the serum was much too strong, so the targeted predators suffered an immediate heart attack or brain hemorrhage and died. Only Ramses fully understood the intricacies, only he knew the precise formula. I was not even close to finding the needle in the haystack, let alone be able to rid the serum of its color and smell. I spared literally no expenses trying to free him from imprisonment, and you know how much I hate to waste money. This alone should tell you how desperately we need Ramses - at least at this moment."

"And when we do not need him any longer?"

Kaffer shrugged. "As you know, I am not known for carrying dead weight around."

"So he'll have to go as well?"

"Preferably. If the ZPD has him in its grasp, he might tell them his dirty little secrets."

"You think so? He kept his trap shut for almost four years."

"Yes, but he knows that as soon as he is done with his job, he will turn into a liability."

"He doesn't trust you?"

"He trusts me just as much as I trust him. Which is not very much, considering his previous decisions."

"He was misguided."

Kaffer smiled. "I have to admit that I am surprised, Sonny. Are _you_ rooting for the ram?"

Coniglio snorted. "I hate the very sight of him. His stupidity cost us years."

"And millions of dollars. Which, in the long run, is much more important to me."

Coniglio raised an eyebrow. "Still not won over to our cause, I see."

Kaffer shrugged. "You know I have a different agenda. Your cause is just the thing I need to see it fulfilled. So, despite the fact that I can still see a lot of flaws in this cause of yours, you can count on me to do what is necessary to promote it."

"I never doubted it for one second, Moe." Coniglio gave him a smile, showing his buckteeth. "We've gone through so much together, you're literally the only mammal on this planet that I fully trust."

Kaffer bowed his head. "The feeling is mutual, my dear friend."

"And your agenda, it's still the same one?" Coniglio asked in a casual tone.

"You can bet it is. Besides, can you name a cause stronger than good, old-fashioned revenge?"

Coniglio grinned. "I don't know. Money?" Both of them chuckled. Coniglio continued, somewhat more somber: "So, you can target one of 'em with the new Night Howler serum. But what about the other one?"

"I thought of having him taken out by a predator who is close to him."

"Close? He's not the kind of guy who has many friends."

"But there are a few mammals which are more dear to him than others. A bunny and a fox, for example."

"Do you really think a tiny fox can take him out for good?"

Kaffer smiled, a rather humorless affair which did nothing to make his face look more endearing. "Believe me, Sonny, with the new and improved Night Howler serum coursing through his veins, even tiny Nick Wilde will be more than up to the task."

"He's more likely to take out the bunny, seeing how close they are."

"Do not tell me you are worried about Judy Hopps."

Coniglio guffawed. "Because she's a bunny? Come on, she's a _disgrace_ to our species. If Wilde kills Hopps, all the better. But you better make sure she's not his only target."

"Taking her out is a nice side-target, but our main focus lies elsewhere. And as far as that one is concerned, the moment will present itself in due time, do not worry."

"You sure?"

"I am certain of it."

"You put a lot of trust in the new serum."

"Because Ramses will deliver. He knows full well that his life is on the line if he fails to deliver this time."

"Well, then let's hope he's up to the task."

"Do you really think I would have wasted that much money on freeing him if I was not convinced he would be?"

"Certainly not." Coniglio leaned back in his chair. "So, our great plan finally comes together. After all these years."

"It has certainly been a long time. But now, the pieces are finally on their corresponding spots. All we need to do now is wait for Ramses to finish his work."

"And until then, I'm stuck with Bellwether."

Kaffer bowed his head. "Patience, my friend. She will not pose a problem for much longer. We have waited for so long, we can wait for a few more months." He got up from his chair and walked over to a little cupboard, opening it and fetching two glasses and a carafe.

Coniglio sighed. "Well, looks like I have no choice. You better make sure her exit from the stage is as painful as possible. She's such a pain in the ass!"

Kaffer smiled while he poured two glasses. "As far as I know, that is exactly what the public thinks about most politicians."

Coniglio returned the smile. "You know, you can kiss me where my cheeks meet."

"Charming as always. It is good to see that some things never change."

"Other things do." Coniglio pointed at his face. "It's been almost twenty years, and still I can't bear to look at this face of mine."

Kaffer nodded. "Like the famous aviator Otto Lilientapir once said: 'Sacrifices must be made.'"

"You know he said it on his deathbed?"

"Of course." Kaffer handed Coniglio a glass and raised his own. "Still it is true. Some sacrifices must be made."

Coniglio raised his glass, too. "Especially given the ultimate goal."

"To our goal."

"To our goal."

* * *

 **Yup, "coniglio" is the Italian word for rabbit. My wife knows a bit Italian, and she told me about this years ago. Somehow it stuck with me. So yes, Santino Coniglio is a rabbit. Partly because I like the word, and partly because I have yet to find a story with a rabbit being the outright villain. And in case you know the book (or the movie) "The Godfather," you'll remember Santino "Sonny" Corleone, the Don's oldest son and heir apparent to his empire, until his untimely demise through lead poisoning …**

 **Legend has it that "Opfer müssen gebracht werden!"** **("Sacrifices must be made!") were the final words aviation pioneer Otto Lilienthal said before succumbing to the injuries he had suffered after his glider crashed on August 9, 1896. Changed his name to Lilientapir because, well, just because. ;-)**

 **There are no hidden references in this chapter, at least none that I'm aware of. Just didn't feel the inclination to think of something. But there will be a lot of them in the upcoming chapters …**

 **Well, the field is open for speculation. What will happen next? Just so you know, it'll be some time before we get to see Kaffer and Coniglio again. Next chapter, we will return to Bunnyburrow, watching our favorite couple …**

 **Thanks for reading, and please, send me your reviews!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	10. Chapter 10 - The Living Community

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **I have no idea why, but my plans for this story just keep shifting and changing …**

 **I had originally planned for this "Bunnyburrow" angle to last at least five chapters, but this here actually is the penultimate one.**

 **For days I have been pondering on what I can talk about here, only to find that everything I need for the story fits into just two more chapters. The whole "Visit the Parents" angle hasn't given me as many ideas as I had hoped anyway. Probably because there are so many "Nick in Bunnyburrow" stories out there, I get the feeling that everything that can be said has been said already. Since I don't want to copy anyone, I decided to cut the whole angle short. When we meet our heroes again, they'll be back in Zootopia.**

 **Which also means that the point when this story will really take off if approaching fast. After this and the next one, I need two more chapters to unravel a few more knots in the story and to introduce our final missing main character, and then the mayhem can finally begin! To be honest, I can't wait! The chapters I'm writing right now seem cumbersome to me, and writing them is tedious business. I'm eagerly anticipating the moment the gruesome action will finally commence! (Edit: There have been quite a lot of changes, due to "Wound," so it'll take me a few more chapters to really be able to go into the thick of things. But we're getting there, don't worry.)**

 **The stats so far are thus: More than 8,100 views, 89 reviews, 75 favorites, and 126 alerts. That's one favorite less than last time, no idea why. Doesn't matter, the numbers are still great! Thanks for that!**

 **Still more thanks go out to the following members of the fanfiction community for sending me their reviews: Haradion, Galaxyexplorer74, HawkTooth, Rylovix, PointyHairedJedi, hpalex13, and Dirtkid123.**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Ten

 **The Living Community**

 _My head keeps spinning. I go to sleep and keep grinning. If this is just the beginning, my life is gonna be beautiful._

Dean Martin: "Ain't That a Kick in the Head?" (Written by Sammy Cahn and Jimmy van Heusen, never published on record, but performed in the movie "Ocean's 11," Warner Bros., 1960.)

* * *

Billy looked at the bunny standing in the doorway with a grin. "Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken, I see."

"Oh, shush!" Judy replied, then she yawned.

Billy's grin widened. "You're quite lethargic for a crepuscular mammal."

"Har har." Judy stretched. "What's the use of weekends when you're not allowed to sleep in?"

Billy pointed over his shoulder. "You should ask _her_. I don't get it either." He made a face. "At least she didn't pull _you_ out of bed."

"I heard that!" Bonnie said calmly while filling a mug with tea.

"I know!" Billy said, sounding somewhat exasperated. "But seriously, what's the big deal? It's not that my presence is vital to how this farm works."

"That may be the case, young mammal, but you know the rules. You live under this roof, you do your part to make sure everything works smoothly. With the harvest around the corner, it's all hands on deck." Bonnie placed the mug on the table, right in front of Judy, who sat down with a smile and starting sipping the beverage, hissing silently as the scalding liquid touched her lips.

"So how comes she's allowed to sleep in and I'm not?"

"Because she's a guest."

"And I'm not?"

"No, you aren't. You spent most of the last six months here, and now that you've finished your dissertation, the time for lazing about is over."

Billy sputtered in indignation. "Lazing about? Mom, I've been the hardest working mammal this side of Tundratown!" Bonnie simply raised an eyebrow and continued cleaning the kitchen to make sure it was pristine before she needed to prepare today's lunch. Billy heaved a sigh, looking at Judy. "You hear that?"

Judy made no effort to hide her grin. "That's what you get for being a loafer."

"A loafer? _Me?_ "

"Come on! You've always been a loafer. You basically blundered through high school, and college wasn't much better."

Billy made a face. "Don't compare yourself to me! I did what I had to do, and I guess it turned out pretty well in the long run. It's not my fault you turned into the role model for overambitious mammals!"

"What's wrong with being ambitious?"

"Not ambitious - _overambitious_! That's a difference."

Judy snorted. "I don't think I'd be at the place I am now without being ambitious."

"Yeah, but you missed out on a heck of a lot of fun along the way!"

Judy shrugged. "It has its dividends."

"Yeah, right." Billy sighed, emptying his mug and standing up. "Just so you know, your fox beat you to it."

Judy frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" She looked around. "Speaking of which, where _is_ Nick?"

"Oh, he got up really early, he helped Mum prepare breakfast for the little ones, and when Dad asked him whether he wanted to help him at the fruit stand, he said, and I quote: 'Stu, it would be my genuine pleasure.' Quote end."

Judy stared at him, open-mouthed. "You're kidding!"

"I'm not. He said he needed to prepare for returning to duty anyway, so he had set his alarm clock for five-thirty."

"Wow! Never thought he'd do this! And Dad asked him for help?"

"He did."

Judy leaned back, pondering. "Surprising."

"You think so?"

Judy snorted. "Some four years ago, Dad couldn't stand the sight of foxes. And now he asked one of them for help."

Billy's face darkened. "You don't know half of it."

"What do you mean?"

"You remember Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia?"

"Of course."

"Well, then you certainly remember their attitude towards all non-bunnies."

Judy sighed. "Don't remind me! They molested me for years, just because one of my friends in elementary school was a cougar."

"You mean Bobby Catmull? Nice chap. Did you know he's got his own recording studio now?"

"He has? Great! He always wanted to do his own music, independent from big labels and studios."

"Yup. Anyway, they came here for a visit, some, uhm, some four months ago. And someone, I guess it was Ginger, made the mistake of mentioning Nick."

Judy made a face. "Bet they didn't like it."

"Not. One. Bit. They told us in no uncertain terms that you were out of your mind, that Zootopia had somehow managed to brainwash you, that you had always been a weirdo, 'probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured,' to quote Uncle Vernon."

"Bet Dad didn't like _that_."

"Oh, he remained surprisingly calm. Until they pulled Nick into the mess, when they called him a bunny-killer _in potentia_. This was when he finally snapped."

"When they mentioned Nick? Not when they insulted me?"

Billy shrugged. "You know, you _are_ a trailblazer. Nothing against you, but most bunnies consider you a weirdo."

Judy grinned. "I take that as a compliment."

"As you should. But seeing that so many here seem to think you're off your rocker, he probably somehow got used to hearing it. Not that he doesn't defend you, mind! But he usually just says that you're his daughter and that he's mighty proud of you. But when they called Nick a danger to all mammalkind, Dad became furious. 'Nick saved her life!,' he shouted. 'What have you ever done for her?'"

"Wow!"

"Dad called Nick one of the finest mammals he had ever come across, a pride for his species and far better than most bunnies he knows."

Bonnie stepped next to Billy, smiling. "And when Stu added that he liked Nick a hell of a lot more than his own sister and her husband, they left on the spot. Haven't seen them since."

"Golly! Never knew Dad had it in him!" Judy exclaimed. They all had to laugh at that.

Billy made a face. "Well, I'll see them tomorrow. And every day after that."

Judy frowned. "How comes? I always thought you didn't like them all that much."

"You know they moved to Zootopia six years ago, right?"

"Yup." She grinned. "And since getting there myself, I've actively tried to avoid them like the plague. Successful, I might add."

"Well, as you know, I'm going to Zootopia, too. Which presented me with a problem. The last six months, I tried my damndest to find myself an apartment, but I guess you know what the apartment market of Zootopia looks like. While there may be hundreds of empty apartments, I can afford none of them on my salary."

Judy's face fell. "Wait a second! You're not …"

"I called Aunt Petunia four weeks ago. I don't think you remember, but she's my godmother, and she promised to help me when need arises, so …"

"You're seriously planning to move in with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia?" Judy was flabbergasted.

"Do I have a choice? I have no money, I can't afford most of the apartments in Zootopia, and those I can afford, they're so bad, they make your apartment look like a palace."

"My ex-apartment," Judy said slowly, an idea forming in her head. "Hey, why don't you move in with us?"

"Excuse me?"

"Nick's mother bought herself a house, several years ago. It's Nick's house now, and we actually started moving in two days ago. It's huge, there's plenty of room for another mammal or six."

"What happened to Nick's mother?" Bonnie asked with concern in her voice.

Judy shrugged. "She has cancer, She was first diagnosed with renal cancer some twelve years ago, then it was stomach cancer, then colon cancer. She fought all this down, but now she's suffering from some sort of brain tumor that is both inoperable and cannot be treated with chemotherapy or radiation therapy. She left the house to spend her final days in a hospice. They'll care for her until she dies. Which, given the fact that the doctors told her some eight months ago that she only has three months to live, can really happen any day now."

"Oh my!" gasped Bonnie. "That's awful!"

Judy sighed. "It is. She's such a nice woman, such a beautiful vixen, yet her days are numbered." She wiped a few tears from her eyes. "But it's the way it is, whether we like it or not." She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. "Be that as it may, the house is Nick's now, and it has two bedrooms, one of which we don't need, and two guestrooms. There's plenty of space for a single bunny."

"Are you serious?" Billy asked.

"Of course I am." She made a pause. "I need to ask Nick, of course, but I guess he's okay with it. He likes you a lot, you know."

"He does?"

"As long as you bring your trumpet and your saxophone, he'll be happy. Hey, maybe the two of you can finally put your plan of forming your own jazz combo into action!"

"Wait a second! Who told you?"

"That you've been talking about forming a band together? Nick told me. All he needed, he said, was a bass player and a drummer, since he had a trumpet player at hand. When I asked him who this might be, he simply said: 'Your brother.'"

"My goodness!" Billy grinned. "Looks like my birthday came early! This is great! I love it!" Suddenly, a thought seemed to strike him. "Please, Judy, do ask him! I'd much rather move in with you than with the bunnies from hell."

Judy guffawed. "Bunnies from hell! That's a good one!"

"They are! They are _so_ un-Hopps-ish, it's painful. Dad hates them!"

"Come on!" Bonnie said. "Stu doesn't hate his sister."

"He sure as hell doesn't like her."

"Yes, you're probably right, but the word _hate_ isn't in his vocabulary."

"That it isn't," Judy said with a grin. "He wouldn't like Nick otherwise."

Billy raised an eyebrow. "Why, is it that easy to hate him?"

Judy gave an exaggerated groan. "Sometimes he drives me up the wall!"

"So what? Everybody drives you up the wall at one point or another."

"Yeah, you, now!"

Billy grinned. "Some things never change, eh?"

Judy stuck out her tongue. "I haven't asked Nick yet, so if you want me to do it, you better start being nice to me."

"Dammit! I knew there was a catch!"

* * *

 **The "Wilde Living Community" is starting to take shape. Just so you know, by the time I'm done with this story, it will have grown by four more mammals, three of whom you haven't even met yet …**

 **The fact that Billy plays the trumpet and the saxophone is sort of a nutty bow towards my wife. She's a music teacher, among other things, and unlike me, she can play the piano, the trumpet, the saxophone, the flute, and several other musical instruments. (All I can do is sing, strum the guitar and play the cajon.) And she likes trumpet music a lot, which is why she asked me to incorporate a trumpet player into this story. Well, her wish is my command … (In case you're wondering, she's the boss in our marriage, and I'm fine with that. She's a natural leader, while I suck at being in charge, simple as that.)**

 **Wild bunnies really are crepuscular, meaning they're most active in the morning and in the evening. (In one story I read that Nick surmised that this was a portmanteau, combining the words "creepy" and "muscular!" I couldn't stop laughing for hours! Sadly, I don't remember which story it was. So if somebody could tell me, I'd be eternally grateful!) Domesticated bunnies are a different matter though. Some get used to the human way of living quite easily, others tend to sleep for most of the day. Some are very active at night. It much depends on the way they're kept. When they spend most of their time in a cage, they tend to sleep a lot, usually cuddling very closely. And no, you should never keep one single rabbit. They need congeners, at least one. Two rabbits are fine, preferably one doe (female) and one buck (male). In case you don't want offspring, neuter both of them. Yes, the doe, too, because probability is high that an un-neutered doe who cannot become pregnant will develop ovary cancer at one point.**

 **You see, keeping a bunny is serious business …**

 **There's one tiny quote from the movie "The Avengers" hidden in here, which is probably easy to overlook. Plus, two characters from Harry Potter make an appearance (complete with a few quotes from the books), and I wager you'll find them with ease.**

 **And that's it for the moment! Thanks for reading this story, and please send me your reviews!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	11. Chapter 11 - New Jobs

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **Anyone still out there?**

 **Yes! It's me, J.O. aka TheCatweazle! And guess what? I'm back! About time!**

 **"** **Hammer to Fall" is finally picked up again, after more than sixteen months of being on the shelf. But I always told you I'd be returning to this, didn't I? It just so happens that I needed to get "How to Treat a Festering Wound" out of my system first.**

 **A lot of things have changed over the course of the months, of course, which is one of the reasons why this hiatus lasted so long (along with a dead father, a dead father-in-law, and a dead bunny, among other things). In case you didn't know already, "Wound" ripped so many plotholes in this story, it has changed to a considerable degree. Many of the things I wrote in the previous chapters became obsolete, so I had to do a bit of housecleaning (i.e. proofreading) to get things in order. (I alluded to this in the first chapter, but in case you're picking this up again where I left it, this is the first time you're reading this) This means that it's a good idea to re-read this story from the beginning. And while we're at it, it's also highly advisable to read "Wound" and "Now Your Nightmare Comes to Life" before reading this chapter. Because by now, I consider this story to be the final part of a trilogy which started with "Wound" and was continued in "Nightmare."**

 **So if you come across something which strikes you as odd, something you don't quite understand, reading my previous stories might enlighten you. And if it doesn't, just send a review my way!**

 **And just so you know, after all the changes caused by "Wound," the rough outline for the story is finally complete - unless someone provides me with an idea that's too good to not incorporate it into the story, that is (and in case you're wondering, yes, I'm still taking suggestions). What this means is that I know exactly how this story's going to unfold, what's going to happen at which point in the story. I've actually streamlined the story a bit, throwing out things I no longer consider necessary. (The Bunnyburrow angle, for example, is actually already complete - the remainder can be told in a few sentences, so we rejoin our heroes back in Zootopia.) Yet, the story has grown significantly regardless of this - the current plan calls for no less than 74 chapters at the moment. (Yes, I have actually written a rough outline of the plot - I don't wanna loose sight of the ultimate goal again.) But you know me - these things tend to change constantly. Be that as it may, it's safe to say that plenty more is to come …**

 **On a more personal note, I have, in the meantime, joined the "Discord Zootopia Server," organized by Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps. If you are a member yourself, you can find me under the moniker "TheCatweazle," obviously. And if you aren't a member yet, you definitely should be - it's one of the best places to discuss everything concerned with Zootopia, and then some!**

 **Another great place to find the best and sauciest (ahem, not really) news on everything Zootopia is the Zootopia News Network ZNN, where this story will probably feature soon, just as "Nightmare" and "Wound" already do. At least, that's what DrummerMax64 told me, and if it really happens, I'll be deeply honored!**

 **The possible publication on ZNN also is the reason why I went to great pains to create a cover artwork for this story. And before you ask, yup, I made it myself - two royalty-free stock pictures I found on the internet, a bit of picture manipulation, and that was it. Other guys may have been able to do a better job, but I like the cover very much, and that's enough for me.**

 **And, just in case you're wondering, yes, I'm dead serious about this - everything crumbles, the ZPD, our heroes, even Zootopia as a whole.**

 **You've been warned!**

 **The current stats are, of course, highly irrelevant at this point, yet here they are: More than 19,000 views, 115 reviews, 124 favorites, and 199 alerts. Your support is blowing me away. Thank you very much!**

 **And of course, I would be nothing without my faithful reviewers: eng050599, Combat Engineer (you really are The Best Fox), bagnome, PointyHairedJedi, Galaxyexplorer74, HawkTooth, hpalex13, Dirtkid123, DanTheMan2150AD, N. J. W. H. (had to include the spaces, otherwise this site considers this to be an internet link and deletes it), BeauW, SamPD2, Missy2.0 Frozen forever, empirebuilder1, GhostWolf88, carick of hunter moon, and several anonymous guests, one of whom sent a few comments in what I assume must be Spanish. I'm terribly sorry, dear Guest, but the only languages I'm able to read, speak, and write are German and English. So I have no idea what you wanna tell me. Be that as it may, your comments still are much appreciated … unless they're insulting, in which case they aren't. (That's no joke - I honestly have no idea what they say, and I don't trust Google Translator's capabilities enough to try and have a go at it.)**

 **Matri didn't send a review, but a private message, telling me he had found the "Avengers" reference, basically in no time at all: "It would be my genuine pleasure." It's what Clint Barton/Hawkeye says to Steve Rogers/Captain America when asked whether he could help hold off the Chitauri. Way to go, Matri! Congrats!**

 **The characters from Harry Potter are, of course, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. This was a no-brainer, obviously. Way too easy for you guys! PointyHairedJedi, Galaxyexplorer74 and hpalex13 found them immediately.**

 **Curiously enough, the Spinal Tap reference in Chapter Eight is still as hidden as before. After all this time, it's unlikely that anyone will be able to find it, so I'm revealing it now: It's when Nigel Tufnel (played by Christopher Guest) explains to Marty DiBergi (Rob Reiner) that his amps go up all the way to eleven. That's how Lionheart described the AfZ - "take Bellwether and crank it up to eleven." Probably too obscure for you …**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Eleven

 **New Jobs**

 _They say we are what we are, but we don't have to be._

Fall Out Boy: "Immortals" (Written by Pete Wentz, Patrick Stump, Joe Trohman, and Andy Hurley, from the album "American Beauty/American Psycho," Island/DCD2, 2015)

* * *

ZPD's Precinct One Headquarters had two common entrances, the huge revolving door at its front and an only slightly smaller, but far more inconspicuous one at its back. It led out into the parking lot and was commonly used by its personnel only. Or rather, it was commonly used by half of its personnel. The officers working the night shift usually used this short cut, while those officers working the day shift preferred to take the longer route around the building to enter it through its front door.

The most important reason for this seemingly strange behavior was sitting at the receptionist's desk. Not only was Benjamin Clawhauser's face the first one that greeted you when you entered the building, it also was one of the few friendly faces police officers got to see over the course of their duty hours. While most citizens of Zootopia held police officers in high esteem, the mammals the officers usually had to deal with treated them with contempt, so friendly faces were in short supply. Clawhauser was on good terms with every officer, every civilian working at Precinct One, so being greeted by him in the morning was a common ritual most cherished by everyone working the day shift there.

On any normal day, Nick and Judy enjoyed exchanging a few words with Clawhauser prior to starting their duty hours. On this particular day however, they had opted for sneaking in through the "night door," as it was commonly called within Precinct One, to avoid a confrontation with the over-enthusiastic cheetah, who would certainly know the minute he saw them that they had mated. He would know it soon enough anyway, but before they would try and deal with that particular situation, they wanted to make sure Nick would be reinstated.

They needn't have bothered - after less than five minutes of having his knowledge of police procedures, laws and regulations put to a most intense test, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that Nick had fully regained his memories. He didn't fumble once, he never had to think about a question longer than two seconds, his answers were succinct and to the point, and each and every one of them was by-the-book, and in a perfect fashion at that. Still, Adrian Bogo and Adimar Mastiff continued asking Nick more questions about virtually every aspect of being a police officer, and Nick answered each of them with utmost patience and confidence.

More than half an hour later, Bogo finally nodded. "That seems alright to me." He looked at Mastiff. "Do you agree?"

Mastiff gave a smile. "Almost. One last question, Lieutenant: Would you mind telling me what the fraternization laws are exactly?"

Nick stiffened, and so did Judy, who was watching the proceedings from her vantage point - a big couch in the back of Major Mastiff's office. Yet his answer was instantaneous: "No officer working at the ZPD is allowed to have an intimate personal relationship with another ZPD officer. Breaking this rule results in a disciplinary hearing, which, if the relationship is proven, will lead to a dishonorable discharge. Depending on the severity of the situation, it may also result in up to two years of imprisonment." He made a pause. "Any particular reason why you did ask me that question, sir?"

Mastiff visibly relaxed in his chair. "So you know what's at stake here."

"I do," Nick replied stiffly.

"Yet you decided on mating with Judy."

"Chief Bogo told you?"

Mastiff smiles. "He did, but my nose tells me the whole story anyway."

Nick shrugged. No surprise there. "It sort of happened by accident. Yet I stand by it. And if that means that one of us has to leave, I'll do it."

"You would resign?"

"Without thinking twice."

Mastiff looked at Bogo. "Well, that sounds like quite the serious case then."

"I tend to think so, too," Bogo said darkly.

Nick opened his mouth, but before he was able to say anything, Mastiff raised his paw. "Just so you know, everybody at Precinct One knows that you two mated."

"You told them?" Judy asked, getting up from the couch and walking over to the chair in which Nick was sitting.

"I did," Bogo said. "Seeing that they would know it anyway, the moment you step into the bullpen, I thought it would be best to acknowledge it before someone finds out who shouldn't."

Nick frowned at the cape buffalo's peculiar choice of words. "Who shouldn't?" he echoed.

Bogo shrugged. "You know just as well as I do that many mammals won't look too kindly on your relationship. I had no idea if some of our workmates belong to that group of mammals. So I told them about it."

"Why?"

Mastiff smiled. "Let's just say Adrian promised everybody a free flight over Zootopia who should be willing to rat on you."

Bogo nodded. "I'd love to have you on my roster in the foreseeable future. Both of you. So I told everybody to keep it under wraps."

"Fortunately," Mastiff continued, "it seems like everyone in here agrees with us."

"That's … good to hear," Judy said. By now, she was sitting next to Nick on the oversized chair.

Bogo nodded. "For the record, neither of us has any problems with the two of you mating. What you do in your private lives is none of our business, and as far as I know, everybody in this building concurs with this. We merely acknowledge it as a potential problem. A problem which, fortunately, can be contained quite easily within the ZPD. As long as no officer tells the public about it, you should be good." He straightened himself on his chair. "Of course, when dealing with the public, things are different. I'm convinced that you can refrain from being too intimate in public. However, some mammals might guess it anyway. So I urge you, in your own best interest, to do everything in your power to make sure that nobody can come to the unfortunate conclusion themselves."

"It's for your own sake, for your own careers," Mastiff added. "We didn't assign these new posts to you to lose you in a few weeks, so we're just as interested in you keeping it under wraps as you should be yourself."

Nick nodded. "Don't worry. We'll do our very best to keep it a secret." Judy nodded as well.

"We're counting on it." Bogo looked at Mastiff. "Well, Major, I don't know about you, but Lieutenant Wilde seems fit for duty to me."

"I agree, Chief." He got up from his chair, and Bogo, Judy and Nick followed suit. He offered Nick his paw. "Welcome back, Lieutenant Wilde."

"Thank you, Major," Nick replied with a smile while shaking the wolf's paw.

Mastiff nodded. "Good. That's been dealt with. After roll call, come back here. I might have a case for the two of you that needs cracking."

"After roll call?" Judy asked. "I thought officers assigned to the Homicide Squad don't need to attend roll call."

"You're right," Bogo said with a small smile, "but I don't want to rob your workmates of the opportunity to welcome you back themselves."

"Oh dear!" Judy exclaimed. "Sir, I need to ask for permission to skip roll call!"

Mastiff gave a grin. "Why? Do you think one of the guys might squeeze too hard while hugging you?"

"The thought has crossed my mind."

"Don't worry, they'll be gentle. If not," he pointed at Bogo, "they'll have an angry cape buffalo to answer to."

"You know that this won't help me much if I'm crushed!"

Bogo snorted. "As if someone would want to hurt you! I also have an announcement to make, and I guess it might be of interest to you."

"Couldn't you tell us just now, sir?"

"No, Hopps. That's what roll call is for."

"But, sir …"

Mastiff laughed. "Get out, you two!"

Judy opened her mouth, but before she was able to say anything else, a dark-furred paw covered it completely. "We're off then," Nick said with a grin. "Come on, Carrots!"

They left the office and turned towards the center of the building, towards the lobby. "Honestly, Fluff, it's no big deal! Just how likely do you think it is that anyone could harm you while hugging?"

"Well, Brian's not exactly the most gentle guy around …"

"Yet he values his own well-being enough to refrain from crushing you. Believe me, he considers your hind paws weapon-grade tools." He place both paws on his rump. "And so do I."

Judy actually grinned at that. "How are your buttocks?"

Nick made a face. "I don't remember the chair in Uncle Massie's office being that hard."

Judy shrugged. "That's what you get for winding me up."

"It was worth it. Still, I think I prefer taking the elevator this time."

"Sissy!"

The first thing they heard upon leaving the elevator was a rather high-pitched squeal, followed by quite a lot of shouts of joy. And sure enough, most of the regular beat cops working at Precinct One were gathered around the receptionist's desk, shouting and waving it greeting.

Judy's ears drooped immediately, not in small part because of the noise, but also because she hated being the center of attention. "Oh my! Did they all come here early to welcome us back?"

"You can bet they did." Nick said with a grin. He wasn't all that bothered about being cheered, of course. "Thank you, guys!" he shouted while raising his own paw in a gracious wave.

Clawhauser had rounded the desk to approach them, with Delgato and McHorn in his wake. "Welcome back, you two!" McHorn said gruffly, raising his enormous hoof.

Nick looked at Judy. "See? No problem." He raised his paw for a pawbump, with Judy following suit. "Hello, Brian."

"So, memories are back where they belong?" Delgato asked while also giving Nick a pawbump. Clawhauser had, in the meantime, taken Judy into a surprisingly gentle embrace.

"You make it sound like I literally lost them."

Delgato shrugged. "The way you behaved over the course of the last few weeks, it sometimes seemed like you had completely lost everything, including the plot." Upon seeing Nick's smile vanishing, he added quickly: "Don't worry, it's not your fault, we know that. My mom always says that even the best illness is useless."

"Amnesia isn't exactly an illness, Freddie," Judy said, stepping next to Nick.

Delgato rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean, Judy." He raised his paw. "Ready to make the world a better place?"

She returned the pawbump. "Aren't we all?"

"Yes, we are," Clawhauser said with the widest grin they had ever seen on the cheetah. "Finally complete again! About time, too!" He looked towards the entrance, and the smile vanished. "Hello, who're you?"

They all turned towards the entrance to see a tiny arctic fox walk in through the revolving doors. He was clad in a brown jacket made out of leatherette, blue jeans, a white tee-shirt and military boots. A rucksack was slung over his shoulder, and he looked around as if searching for something.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Nick said, leaving the group to approach the mammal. "Rocky! What are you doing here, you crazy son-of-a-gun?"

Upon seeing Nick, Rocky MacIntyre grinned and spread his arms, and the two foxes embraced each other. "Did nobody tell you? ZPA wanted to get rid of me."

"What's that supposed to mean? Training course will end in about three months."

"Well, they kicked me out."

"What? What happened? If they kicked you out, why are you here?"

"Because I refused to stay."

"You're talking in riddles, mammal!"

Suddenly, Nick heard a voice behind him. "Forgot to tell you," Judy said while approaching, paw extended. "Hello, Rocky!"

"Hello, Judy," Rocky said, returning the pawshake.

Judy looked up at Nick. "Rocky was asked to become an instructor at the ZPA. Bogo told me several days ago, right after I was released from hospital."

"Really?" Nick looked at Rocky. "What did you do? Flatten every opponent?"

"Of course. Wasn't even a challenge. After a while, someone up there decided that I might be able to teach _them_ a thing or two, so they asked me if I wanted to become an instructor. But I refused. I told them that I wanted to join my friend at the ZPD. So they decided to grant me my wish, gave me my graduation certificate and told me to get the hell out of there."

"Three months early?"

"It's not all that uncommon," Judy said. "Some cadets, mostly those with a military background, manage to skip certain courses to finish ahead of time. But three months early … I guess that's a new record."

"That's what they told me."

"Congrats, old buddy!" Nick said. "But as far as teaming up with me is concerned, well …" he looked down at Judy.

Rocky gave a smile. "I know. No splitting apart WildeHopps, right." He sniffed the air. "Especially since …"

"You can smell it, right?"

"I don't need to. I've known it for months."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember when I was here the last time, when I had my little one-to-one with the Chief? Bogo told you he wanted to speak to me in private. And when you didn't want to leave, Judy here pulled you out of his office by grabbing your tail."

"So?" Judy asked.

Rocky chuckled. "Seeing that you're a bunny, you wouldn't know this, but a fox will only allow another mammal to touch his tail if he's madly in love with said mammal."

Judy looked at Nick. "Really? I've been doing it for years."

Nick shrugged. "And I was okay with it. Guess I always was."

Rocky nodded. "When I saw it, I was fairly certain that he had the hots for you, Judy."

Judy smiled. "And vice versa. But it's a secret, you know."

Rocky raised an eyebrow. "How can something like that be a secret? Every mammal with a working sense of smell will know it."

Nick shrugged again. "Don't we know it! It's a gamble. In here, everybody's in the loop. We just have to hope that nobody outside the ZPD will rat on us. The moment they do, I'll have to resign."

"And nobody wants that," Judy added.

Rocky smiled. "Don't worry, I can keep a secret."

"I know." Nick pointed over his shoulder. "Wanna meet your new workmates?"

Rocky looked past him, a frown on his face. "What's that? A welcoming committee?"

"Yeah, but not for you. We had some … turbulent weeks."

"I know. The Chief told me when I told him I might be joining the ZPD early. But the two of you seem to have recovered, I see."

"That we have," Judy said. "We're both cleared for duty."

"Glad to hear that." He pointed at Nick with a grin. "Would have been a damn shame if he had forgotten all about me."

Nick shrugged. "I hadn't forgotten you, I had forgotten her."

"Really? Ouch!"

Judy nodded. "Yeah, it wasn't exactly a picnic, especially since …" She let the sentence trail off.

Rocky nodded. "Well, you got him back."

Judy smiled. "That I do."

"And I got her back," Nick said.

"Close call, eh?"

"Very close. She went into cardiac arrest once."

"Bloody hell!" He looked at Judy. "Nick gave me a phone call while you were in hospital. I was really afraid you'd be a goner when he told me you were suffering from myxy. When I was still a cub, back in Nageria, a family of bunnies living next door was wiped out by it, all 84 of them."

"Takes more than a stupid virus to take out Judy," Nick said.

"And don't you forget it," Judy added with a grin.

They walked over to their workmates, who had watched their exchange from a distance. "Guys," Nick shouted, "I'd like you to meet the newest addition to our roster. Ladies and Gentlemammals, I'll give you Rocky MacIntyre! Some of you may remember him."

"I do," Clawhauser said. "The Chief told me you'd come here." He gave Rocky a pawshake so enthusiastic, Rocky was almost bouncing around. "Welcome to the madhouse!"

"Thanks. The name's Benjamin Clawhauser, right?"

"Just call me Clawhauser. Everyone does." He looked at Nick. "Except him. He calls me Spots."

Rocky snorted. "He used to call me Snow White."

Everybody looked at Nick, who shrugged. "What? His fur's white, so …"

"That's just like you." Delgato said. "Frederick Delgato. Pleased to meet you."

Rocky's eyes widened. "Ah! Copper! Thought I'd be meeting you here."

Delgato frowned, then his features lit up. "So you're one of us now?"

"That I am. Sounded more interesting than running a private investigation firm."

"That's what you did?"

"After I cleared the air with a certain arctic shrew living in Tundratown."

"I see. He was the one you were on the run from?"

"He was. But like I said, everything's fine now. And when Nick asked me if I wanted to join the good guys, hell, how could I refuse?"

Delgato beamed at him. "Excellent! Can't wait to see you in action again!"

"You know each other?" McHorn asked.

"I told you about him. He's the guy who took down two armed tigers while I was merely standing around with my paws in my pockets."

McHorn looked down at the arctic fox. "So you're indeed Arctic Fire."

Rocky shrugged. "That's what they called me. We've met before, right? Brian McHorn?"

"The one and only."

James Fangmeyer approached them. "So, another fox." He looked down at Nick. "An old friend of yours?"

"He is indeed."

Fangmeyer looked a Rocky. "You were a hustler, too?"

Rocky heaved a sigh. "Did you tell _everybody_ , Nick?"

Nick nodded. "I did."

Fangmeyer chuckled. "And what do you know, nobody cares. Nick hasn't exactly been a role-model. So what? He's a fox, so of course he became a hustler. What else was there? With all that stupid prejudice going around … He wears the shield now. And that's all everybody here cares about."

Delgato nodded. "You were on the wrong side of the law, too, but now you're on the right one. Fine with us. And for the record, we don't give a damn about you being a fox. I know you can kick ass. That's exactly what we need. So, like Clawhauser said, welcome to the madhouse!"

Rocky nodded. "Thanks!"

He wanted to add something, but Clawhauser interrupted him. "Uh, guys, it's five minutes to nine. Roll call's about to begin!" He looked at Rocky. "You better change into your uniform, like, right now!"

"Don't worry, Clawhauser, I can get changed in less than two minutes." He took off towards the locker rooms while all other officers started walking towards the bullpen.

* * *

"Alright, that's enough!" Adrian Bogo said in his usual, gruff manner, and the noise that filled the bullpen died down slowly. Even before it had become completely silent again, he pointed at Nick and Judy, who were sitting on their usual chair. "I guess you all know it by now, but Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde are back!"

A short cheer erupted. Bogo nodded. "Right! As you all know, this will also be the final time these two attend roll call. They've been re-assigned to Homicide Squad, and both of them have been promoted to Lieutenant. Congratulations yet again, Lieutenants Hopps and Wilde!"

The other officers cheered again, after which Judy said: "Thank you, sir."

Bogo allowed himself a small smile. "So you'll no longer be my problem to deal with."

With a grin, Nick said: "And just when I thought you were starting to like me."

"Shut your mouth, Wilde!" Bogo looked around. "We also have a new recruit with us today, our second fox actually. So I should probably introduce him right now, but I'm not going to, because I don't care."

Rocky, who was sitting next to Nick, looked at his old friend, who made a placating gesture.

"Now, before I dish out assignments, I have some bad news."

Everybody sat up straighter.

Bogo looked around again. "Our forensics team managed to sift through the mayhem that once was Elkatraz. They managed to match remains to mammals, so I can confirm right now that no less than 43 guards were killed in the assault, including the warden. On top of that, 24 inmates were also killed. Only two mammals are unaccounted for. You already know that Dawn Bellwether's one of them. But the other one …"

He took a picture and pinned it to the board behind him.

"This is Douglas Ozymandias Ramses. He's a master chemist, and for those of you who weren't with us back then, he was the one who created the Nighthowler serum."

"Wait a second!" Pennington said. When Bogo stared at her, she quickly said: "Sorry to interrupt, sir, but are you saying that …"

"Yes, Pennington, we have reason to believe that whoever sprung him was in league with him a few years ago."

Stony silence was the only response.

"There's more to this," Bogo said. "One of the surviving guards told us that he was the mammal the assailants wanted to free, not Bellwether."

"Not Bellwether?" Markus Grizzoli asked.

"No. The guard was under the impression that her liberation was more of an accident. She called out to one of the assailants, and he took her with him. If she hadn't shouted at him, he would probably have left her there."

He made a pause. "I don't think I need to remind you of what is at stake here. Doctor Peralta, our scientist who leads the forensics lab, told me that the serum Ramses created was the work of a genius. It took the best scientists of Zootopia almost five weeks and enormous resources to come up with an antidote. If whoever is behind this wants to create an improved version of it, we have a huge problem on our hooves. Because Peralta is convinced Ramses will be able to outdo himself. He's just that good. Finding him is Priority Number One! I expect each and every one of you to be on the lookout for him at all times! He needs to be behind bars again, preferably yesterday!"

Bogo made another pause to let that sink in. "Alright. Assignments!" He put on his glasses and looked over their rim at McHorn, who straightened in his chair. "McHorn! You're woefully behind on paperwork. So it'll be desk duty for you this week!"

McHorn made a face, but didn't say anything.

"Delgato, Savanna Central patrol. Seeing that you need a different partner this week, you'll team up with MacIntyre!"

Delgato looked at Rocky, who returned the gaze. "10-4, Chief," the lion said, getting up.

Rocky followed his lead and saluted Delgato. "Officer MacIntyre reporting for duty, sir!"

Delgato stared down at him. "This isn't the Nagerian Armed Forces, MacIntyre! We're a team, and while I may be your superior officer, you'll soon learn that we do things a bit differently at the ZPD. Just watch and learn!" He raised his paw. "My name's Frederick. Most guys call me Freddie. Ready to make the world a better place?"

Rocky smiled and gave him a paw bump. "You can bet I am! Rockwell MacIntyre, although I prefer Rocky."

"Rocky it is! Let's get crackin'!" They walked towards the exit together.

"Seems like Freddie learned his lesson," Judy whispered just loud enough for Nick to hear.

"What do you mean?"

"He treated me a bit differently when we were first teaming up."

"He did?"

Judy looked at Bogo, who had, of course, followed their exchange, although he probably hadn't been able to hear what they had said. "Tell you another time," she whispered.

* * *

 **Again, not much happening here - I just had to alert everyone to the fact that Doug Ramses is at large. Although, with all the pondering I did over the last couple of months, I'm happy to announce that I'm almost through with the expositional stuff. I only need to introduce one last character, and it'll still take a few chapters before we get there. In the meantime, the main plotline is about to get shifted into higher gear. So brace yourself, the fun's about to begin!**

 **Ozymandias is the Greek name for Ramesses II, ruler of Egypt from 1279-1213 BC. So I thought it would be befitting a guy named Ramses.**

 **That's it for the moment. Thanks for reading, and feel free to send your reviews and comments my way!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	12. Chapter 12 - Trial Run

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **Man, it feels good to finally be dealing with this story again! So many ideas, so many things I wanna try, so many things I have in store for this story - I'm having a blast!**

 **Time to finally raise the bar on this story!**

 **A word of warning: Things are going to become quite gruesome …**

 **Right now, I'm looking at these stats: More than 19,400 views, 119 reviews, while favorites and alerts remain at 124 and 199 respectively. Thank you for your persistent support.**

 **And also thanks to Dirtkid123, Thou Craggy Knob, Combat Engineer, and gistech for sending their reviews. I'm deeply honored that you take the time and effort to read my stuff and comment on it. Much appreciated!**

 **I've reached the point in this story where I need to jump ahead in time, because not much happens in the meantime. Judy and Nick start working with the Homies, successfully, of course. Nobody outside the ZPD has caught on to the fact that they have mated - yet. Billy moves in with Judy and Nick and establishes himself as a worthy addition to Dr. Badger's team. Vivian's still alive, barely, although her final days are approaching fast. Rocky becomes a valued member of ZPD's duty roster, managing to arrest a few criminals in the most effective fashion, earning him the respect of Bogo and his fellow officers …**

 **And Doug Ramses works on the improved version of the Nighthowler serum.**

 **Life in Zootopia just goes on.**

 **Until, two months later …**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Twelve

 **Trial Run**

 _I will occupy, I will help you die, I will run through you, now I rule you too._

Metallica: "Master of Puppets" (Written by James Hetfield, Lars Ulrich, Kirk Hammett, and Cliff Burton, from the album "Master of Puppets," Elektra, 1986)

* * *

The hall was large, almost cavern-like, and it was sparsely lit. Large machines loomed in the shadows, but there were no mammals around to operate them. One single beam of light was illuminating a clear space in a remote corner of the hall. In the middle of that beam was a single chair with a mammal sitting in it. The mammal, a small-clawed otter, was silent, unmoving. Only the steady rising and falling of her chest served as an indicator that she was still alive.

With excruciating slowness, Margaret Cinerea came to, only to find herself sitting in a chair which seemed to be ludicrously oversized for her. She tried to move, but realized that she had been tied to the chair. A stronger mammal may have been able to tear the ropes apart - they neither were all that sturdy nor had they been that tightly bound -, but at 79 years of age, Cinerea was no longer the formidable woman she had once been. Multiple sclerosis had blinded her in one eye, had made moving difficult and had robbed her of all strength she may have had at one point in her life. By now, she was little more than a sorry shell of the mammal she had once been.

Only her mind was still working at full capacity.

She had been abducted, that much was clear. Somebody had waited for her, just as she had left her home to go to the doctor for yet another check-up. The last thing she distinctly remembered before passing out was a smelly piece of cloth being pressed to her muzzle. Chloroform, probably.

But why had she been abducted?

Medical treatment had all but devastated the family assets, so nobody would be able to pay a ransom. Not that there would have been anyone who would've been willing to pay for her liberation anyway - since she was the last remaining member of the Cinerea family, since she had lost most of her friends over the course of the years, there was nobody who'd be interested in saving her life. She was in no position of power and influence anymore. She was but a mere old, ill woman waiting for death to knock on her door.

Suddenly, a loud voice filled the cavern, but there was nobody in sight. The voice was slightly distorted, so the mammal was probably using a PA system.

"Greetings, Mrs. Cinerea. I am very glad that you could fit me into your busy schedule."

Cinerea licked her dry lips. "Who … who're you?"

"It does not matter who I am. What matters is what will happen next."

"Which is what?"

The mammal chuckled. "All in due time, Mrs. Cinerea. All in due time." There was a pause. "You are probably asking yourself now why you are here."

Cinerea decided to not give the mammal the satisfaction of giving an answer - not that she would have known an answer anyway. The voice was that of a civilized being - calm, confident, slightly mocking, with just enough of an accent to sound distinctly alien. And yet his words carried a chilliness that was most disturbing. Whoever the mammal was, he most certainly was a mammal not to be trifled with.

With sudden clarity, Cinerea realized that this was the moment she would die.

Even to her, it came as a surprise that the thought didn't bother her at all. Having spent the last ten years fighting an uphill battle with multiple sclerosis simply meant that death had long-since lost its sting. As far as she was concerned, death could claim her right now, and it would be fine with her. Life hadn't exactly been a picnic lately anyway.

Yet she had no idea what had brought death upon her right now.

After a lengthy pause, the mammal continued. "Please tell me, do you remember David Cinerea?"

Cinerea stiffened in her chair. Of course she remembered David.

As if you were able to forget your only child!

The mammal remained silent, obviously waiting for an answer, but Cinerea refused to give in that easily. So, after almost a minute, the mammal spoke up again. "Obviously, you do not. Allow me to refresh your memory. David was the scum who …"

She had to respond to that! "My son wasn't scum! He …"

"Do not lie to me!" The disembodied voice had suddenly become thunderous. "You know perfectly well what your son has done! You know perfectly well the guilt he had burdened himself with! Your son was a drinker and a fiend. Throughout his entire life, all he did was bully weaker mammals. And he was a rapist! You knew all this, and perfectly at that, yet even during the trial, you maintained the façade of him having been the most benevolent of mammals! You have lied into the face of Lionheart, knowing full well what the outcome would be."

"My son was murdered!" she shrieked.

"Yes, and as far as I am concerned, he deserved it! A just punishment for a hideous crime. And now, you are going to pay for yours." He continued in a much lower voice: "Would you please go in there and untie her?"

Cinerea heard a door open and close. Out of the darkness, a shape emerged. The mammal was limping slightly.

Cinerea squinted.

 _A sheep?_

* * *

Dawn Bellwether had hardly left the room when another door opened, and Doug Ramses entered. "Any reason why you picked that particular mammal?" he asked while watching Bellwether limp towards the otter through the pane of glass which separated their room from the cavernous hall.

Kaffer nodded. "There are numerous reasons, but apart from those, which do not concern you, she is just the perfect mammal, aged, ill, decrepit, weak." He looked down at Ramses. "Will it work on her to such a degree that she will be able to do what we want her to do? She is much weaker than I could have anticipated."

"Oh, it'll work, believe me. She could be on the brink of death, as far as I'm concerned. With this," Ramses raised the air-powered pistol he held in his right hoof, "running through her veins, she'll be more than capable of doing the job. Just give the word."

"Fire at will!"

* * *

Not for the first time, Dawn Bellwether cursed the cheetah who had mauled her leg. Every other step she took caused her serious pain, and it took her a long time to cover even the smallest distances.

"Why does she have to sit so far in the back of the hall?" she muttered under her breath.

She had hardly crossed half of the distance to the otter when she heard the door behind her open again.

And a small, fast object zipped past her.

Bellwether froze in mid-step.

The object, whatever it was, hit the otter in the neck, just below her right ear.

And shattered on impact.

The otter jerked, a yelp of pain escaping her.

For a few seconds, nothing happened.

Then the otter started trembling. And groaning.

Bellwether took a step back. She had seen this before.

Strangely enough, there was no blue stain visible on her neck.

The otter growled, a deep, feral sound.

 _She's pinioned_ , Bellwether reminded herself. _She won't be able_ …

The otter started yanking at the ropes.

And ripped them apart with the greatest of ease.

 _RUN!_

Bellwether wheeled around and started running towards the door as fast as her mangled legs were able to carry her.

But she wasn't fast enough.

Excruciating pain shot through her right leg. She fell to the ground with a scream.

The next thing she felt was another shot of searing pain in her back which dissipated almost as soon as she felt it. So did the pain in her legs.

Fangs started to tear into her hips, separating flesh from bone.

Yet Dawn Bellwether felt nothing of it.

She was thrown around like a rag doll, finally landing on her back. Blood - _her_ blood - was oozing from her in copious amounts through the wounds in her leg, her hips, and her abdomen, staining the floor around her.

The last thing Dawn Bellwether saw was the face of a savage otter ripping out her throat.

 _I knew I should have stayed at Elkatraz!_

Darkness consumed her.

* * *

"And that is what you get when you betray me," Kaffer said softly while looking through the window, watching the otter feast on what remained of what had once been a sheep.

Ramses swallowed. The meaning behind these words was unmistakable.

He had, after all, betrayed Kaffer, too.

"Impressive," Kaffer continued, his voice matter-of-factly again as he turned towards Ramses. "It certainly works as intended."

Ramses tried to quell the feeling of fear and put on a fake smile to hide it. "You ain't seen nothing yet. You got what I asked you for?"

Kaffer nodded and produced a small pellet containing a fluid clear as water. "You do know that this is supposed to be injected intravenously?"

"It'll do the job just the same." Ramses fed the pellet into his pistol and worked the slide. "Ready when you are."

"Are you sure she is dead?"

Ramses looked through the window and had to fight hard to suppress a shudder. "Seeing that most of her intestines seem to be spread across the floor, I'd say she is," he said in the most casual tone he could muster.

"Do it!"

Ramses walked over to the door again. As soon as he yanked it open, the otter turned towards the sound and made for the intruder.

Ramses took aim and fired the pellet at the otter, hitting her right above her bloodied muzzle, square between the eyes. The pellet shattered, its contents covered her face, mixing with the blood in her fur.

But the impact didn't slow the otter down. She ran towards the door with astonishing swiftness, given her age and condition.

Yet Ramses remained standing where he was, calmly watching the otter approach him.

When all of a sudden, she slowed down and came to a halt, merely a few feet in front of Ramses.

And started trembling again.

Her eyes bulged, she opened her mouth to inhale …

And let loose with an unearthly scream.

With sudden finality, she dropped to the ground.

Kaffer nodded. "Excellent!"

"That'll give them a surprise." Ramses approached the otter, checking her life signs, finding none. He returned to the room where Kaffer was waiting. "Dead as a doornail."

"Good work."

Ramses smiled. "It was easy enough. There are enough enzymes who help metabolizing color pigments. I merely had to find the right one."

"And this latest addition of yours was a stroke of genius."

"I'd like to see them come up with something that can fight this."

Kaffer nodded again. "Now all we need to do is get rid of the smell."

Ramses made a face. "Yep. But we may run into a snatch there."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that the toxicity of _Midnicampum holicithias_ is linked directly to the odor of it."

"Are you sure?"

"Unfortunately, yes. There's a dissertation on the subject. If you manage to get rid of the smell, you get rid of the toxicity as well."

"A dissertation? By whom?"

"One William S. Hopps."

"Hopps? Any connection?"

"I don't know. The name Hopps isn't exactly rare. I know he's from Bunnyburrow, but there are at least seventy families named Hopps living there. He works at Dr. Badger's lab now, as far as I know, and seeing that Judy Hopps put her in prison, I don't think it's likely she'll want to team up with a relative of hers any time soon."

"And you are certain that his research, his information, is accurate?"

"Well, Professor Mitis and her colleagues graded the dissertation _summa cum laude_ , so I guess it's fairly accurate."

Kaffer made a pause. "Well, that obviously means that we need to cover the smell."

"That'll be like throwing the baby out with the bathwater. We still have a smell, even if it's a different one. Which in turn means they'll be able to detect the poisoning anyway."

Kaffer shrugged. "Of course they will."

Ramses made a pause. "But … when you are certain that they'll wise up to the act at some point, then why were you so keen to get rid of the color and the smell the first time around?"

"Because all we need is time. That was all we needed back when Bellwether went for mayoralty. Since the serum was incomplete at that stage, mammals wizened up to the act too quickly, so she had not been fully established as the ruler of Zootopia. She still had too much opposition, too many mammals working against her." He looked through the window again, at the remains of what had once been the ruler of Zootopia. "Impatience was the easiest door for her. And it cost us dearly."

He turned towards Ramses again. "But now, we have an important ally at a very important position again. The situation is pretty much identical to the one we had five years ago, with the main difference being that our ally has learned the virtue of patience. All he needs is a bit more time. The chaos this will unleash will give him all the leverage he needs to assume full control of the situation. Who cares if they wise up to the act at that stage? By then, his rule will be absolute, so there will be no one to stop him, and by extension, us."

"You seem quite certain that it'll work to perfection."

Kaffer shrugged. "You know just as well as I do that there is no such thing as perfection. But I tend to think our chances of success are extraordinary. _If_ you manage to rid the serum of the smell."

Ramses made a pause. "Well, _Crocus sativus_ might just do the trick. It's very similar to the _Midnicampum holicithias_ , and it's far less common."

"That is the plant saffron is harvested from, right?"

"It is. Since it's so rare, it's smell is not something you come across every day. Might fool enough mammals to buy us some more time."

"Can you do it?"

"I don't know yet. Maybe it'll work, maybe it won't. Have to check it out."

"Then I suggest to get to it at once."

Ramses smiled. "With pleasure."

"And, Doug?"

"Yes?"

"I said it before, I am saying it again: Good work."

"Thanks."

"Continue to deliver outstanding work like this, and I might forget that you betrayed me as well."

Ramses swallowed, his throat suddenly too constricted to speak. He merely turned around and left the room.

The moment the door closed behind him, Kaffer picked up his smartphone from the table. He had two phone calls to make.

"Wallace? It is me. We have two corpses to dispose of. They can be found in the main production hall, I guess you cannot miss them." He listened to the response. "I actually do not care, as long as you make sure that you cannot be identified, and that the corpses will be found. Give me a call when you are done, so that production can start again." He disconnected and dialed another number.

" _Yeah, Moe? What's up?_ " Santino Coniglio asked.

"I guess it will please you to learn that I solved a problem for you."

" _You mean Bellwether's gone?_ " The rabbit heaved a sigh. " _About time! Believe me, one more week, and I would've killed her myself._ "

Kaffer raised an eyebrow. "You know what I always say?"

" _Yeah, yeah, patience, I know! Come on, I've been the epitome of patience!_ "

"That you have been, and I commend you for that. I also took the liberty of settling a final score with your past."

" _A score with my past?_ "

"A certain otter, a rather old one. I guess you remember her."

" _Margaret Cinerea?_ "

"None other."

Coniglio gave a guffaw that sounded rather dirty. " _Music to my ears! Good riddance, you skank!_ "

Kaffer chuckled. "I was certain you would like to hear it."

" _You just gave me the best piece of news I heard in months! So the serum works?_ "

"It does indeed. All we need is to get rid of the smell."

" _Good. How long do you think it'll take Ramses to do it?_ "

"Well, I guess the events of today have been a sufficient motivation for him. One month."

" _Fine. I'll be ready_."

"I am counting on it."

* * *

 **So, the stage is set for some major catastrophes!**

 **The name "Cinerea" is based on the scientific name of Margaret's species,** ** _Aonyx Cinerea_** **, the Asian small-clawed otter. And yes, the person, or rather her son, is bound to become highly important over the course of the story, despite the fact that he died some thirty years earlier.**

 **I hid one quote from the movie "The Dark Knight" in here. Have fun finding it!**

 **And there's another quote taken out of the book "Star Wars - Return of the Jedi" by James Kahn. (You'll only find it in the book, so don't bother looking for it in the movie.)**

 **Thank you for reading, and should you want to comment on this, you know where to find me! Thanks in advance!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	13. Chapter 13 - All That Remains

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **Finally, things are starting to become interesting! Lots of things on our agenda! So let's cut to the chase, shall we?**

 **These are the current stats: Almost 20,000 views, 125 reviews, 125 favorites, and 200 alerts. Thanks yet again! That so many people like what I'm doing … just awesome!**

 **Thanks also to Combat Engineer, Dirtkid123, GhostWolf88, Thou Craggy Knob, tweiler18, and gistech for letting me know what they think of the stuff I wrote so far. Guys like you are the reason why I'm doing this!**

 **It took tweiler18 little time to find the quote taken from the movie "The Dark Knight." The line was said by Joker (played by the late Heath Ledger, giving a performance for the ages). Shortly before he gives Gambol (Michael Jai White) a new smile, he tells the mob boss how he got his scars. According to the Joker, his father was "a drinker and a fiend." Kaffer used the exact same words to tell Margaret Cinerea what a nice chap her son had been. Congrats, tweiler18! Like the Joker also said: "What would I do without you?"**

 **The other quote, from the first "Star Wars" book, hasn't been found yet. Hey, guys, get a move on!**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

 **All That Remains**

 _So now you're dead, well, wha' d'ya know? And am I sorry? No, I don't think so._

Anthrax: "Random Acts of Senseless Violence" (Music by Charlie Benante, Lyrics by Scott Ian and John Bush, from the album "Stomp 442," Elektra/Warner, 1995)

* * *

"Cause of death: respiratory arrest." Nick closed the file. "He died in his sleep because his lungs stopped working."

He looked up at the mammal sitting on the other side of the table. The female zebra was clad in an expensive-looking gala ball gown. A massive golden bracelet around her wrist, a breathtakingly beautiful necklace and heavy make-up completed the picture. "Tell me about it," the zebra said, her face a picture of grief. "I woke up next to his dead body."

"Can't have been all that much of a shock," Judy said, her voice sounding caustic. She pointed at the zebra, at her immaculate clothing. "Had a nice party, Mrs. Hankinson?"

Hankinson sighed. "It was a fundraiser for a local children's hospital in the Rainforest District. My husband and I wanted to go there together, but … death had other plans. Should I have stayed at home?"

"Of course not," Nick said with a friendly smile. "Good cause, after all."

"However," Judy continued, "according to our Chief, who was also present at the fundraiser, it was over at about midnight, which is when he went home. You, on the other paw, arrived at your home at six in the morning. Care to explain that time gap?"

Hankinson's features turned hard. "I don't think I need to give you an account for my every movement."

"No, you don't need to," Nick said pleasantly. "You were seen dancing and drinking in the Orion discotheque, among other locations."

Hankinson narrowed her eyes. "Who saw me?"

Judy narrowed hers. "I did." Her voice seemed to come out of the darkest recesses of hell.

Hankinson put on a forced-looking smile. "So, yes, I did shake a leg. Is that a crime?"

Nick shook his head. "Certainly not, but just some, what is it, four weeks after your husband's untimely death … you must admit, this raises quite a few eyebrows."

"But maybe," Judy continued harshly, "there is a reason for your apparent lack of grief over your husband's death. Maybe it's because you have a lot of experience burying husbands, haven't you?" She lunged into her briefcase and tossed four files onto the table.

Nick took the first file and opened it. "Cause of death: respiratory arrest." He opened another one. "Cause of death: respiratory arrest." He looked at Judy. "I don't know about you, Carrots, but I see a pattern emerging."

"You think, Slick?" Judy got another file out of her briefcase. "You know what this is, Mrs. Hankinson?"

"No, but you'll certainly tell me."

"I will. This is the report Doctor Peralta, our head of forensics, gave me yesterday. It contains the results of the autopsy he performed on your late husband."

Hankinson's jaw dropped. "What?"

Nick gave her a pleasant smile. "It's when a doctor cuts open a corpse to determine …"

"I know what an autopsy is! What I want to know is who authorized it!"

"We asked for it, and the district attorney agreed with us. He gave us permission to let your late husband's body be exhumed, so Doctor Peralta could perform an autopsy. Care to know what he found out?" Judy opened the file, looking at Hankinson. When she didn't respond, she read aloud: "Cause of death: Acute barbiturate poisoning, leading to respiratory depression, to a point where the victim simply stopped breathing." She looked up. "Barbiturates … you're an MTA, aren't you, Mrs. Hankinson?"

"What's an MTA?" Nick asked.

It was Hankinson who replied. "Medical Technical Assistant. I worked at a pharmacy, mixing drugs for a living."

"In other words," Judy said, "you you can certainly tell me what barbiturates are used for."

Hankinson hesitated. "They're sedatives, commonly used to treat anxiety disorders, among other things."

"Anxiety disorders." Nick looked at her as if pondering. "Was your late husband suffering from an anxiety disorder?"

"Yes, he was."

"I see. Is this a common disease?"

Hankinson shrugged. "I'm an MTA, not a doctor. My knowledge of medicine is, on the whole, solid at best. My real field of expertise is drugs."

"So you know everything there is to know about barbs … Barbies … barbells, about whatever the heck the drug is called, but you can't really say how often the stuff is needed, right?"

"You could certainly say that, but if I may haphazard a guess, I'd say it's much more common than you'd think."

Judy stared at her. "So if five mammals you get to meet over a period of ten years all develop the exact same condition, would this still qualify as, ahem, _probable_?" When Hankinson didn't reply, she continued in a harsh voice: "Isn't it true that all your five husbands were diagnosed with an anxiety disorder? All five of them, all in their early seventies, all with a clean bill of health before marrying you, neither of them with a history of anxiety disorders." She leaned back in her chair. "Gee, you must be the wife from _hell_ if all your husbands developed an anxiety disorder shortly after marriage."

Hankinson stiffened. "Are you trying to insult me?"

Judy merely gave her a venomous smile.

With a distinct snarl to her voice, Hankinson said: "I have no idea why all my husbands developed the condition, okay?"

Nick's smile looked absolutely genuine, warm and soothing. "More common than you'd think, you said, right? Would you find it among, for example, our workmates?"

"I don't know. Possibly."

Nick looked down at Judy. "I always said you're too high-strung, Carrots."

"And _I_ always said your tail's too long, Ginger," Judy countered without missing a beat. "Want me to do something about it? I think I saw a kitchen knife lying around here somewhere."

"Thanks, but I think my tail's fine the way it is." They looked at each other and shared a grin. Nick turned towards Hankinson again, and suddenly, his face became stern and his tone harsh. "For the record, Mrs. Hankinson, every ZPD officer has to undergo regular medical examinations. After hearing that all your husbands developed an anxiety disorder, I was curious, so I asked around among our workmates, and not a single one of them has an anxiety disorder. Nor have their significant others or their children. All in all, we are talking about some three hundred mammals here, and not one of them is in need of medical treatment for an anxiety disorder. Which leads me to believe that it's not quite as common as you want us to believe. In other words, I still have a hard time believing that all five husbands of yours developed the exact same condition shortly after marrying you."

Hankinson heaved a huge sigh. "Are you expecting me to be able to give you a smart explanation for that? I have no idea why my late husbands all developed the same condition. Maybe it _is_ me, I don't know. Maybe I do make mammals nervous."

"Do I look nervous to you?"

"Er, no."

"Does she?" He pointed at Judy.

"No."

Nick looked at Judy. "Does she make you nervous, Fluff?"

Judy looked at Hankinson. "Can't say she does, Slick." Contrary to Nick, her features had softened, and so had her voice. "Maybe there is a different explanation. In each of the five cases in question, the doctor who diagnosed the anxiety disorder was one Doctor John R. Hennigan. I managed to look him up and found his picture in an old college yearbook. Along with another photo, that of a certain Melina Perez. Wasn't that your maiden name?"

Hankinson smiled, although it looked rather forced. "Yes, Johnny and I went to college together. Is that a crime?"

"Of course not. It merely left us curious."

"Johnny Hennigan is my friend, so I trust him. And so did my husbands."

Nick heaved a mock sigh. "Ah, solidarity among friends! Such a rare commodity nowadays!" Hankinson shot him a look, but said nothing.

"You trust him?" Judy asked.

"Yes, completely," Hankinson said with a nod.

"So you also trust his recommended method of treatment?"

"Of course I do."

"And the method he recommended was barbiturates, right?" Hankinson nodded again. "So, as an MTA, you agree with his prescriptions, right?"

"I do, yes. Barbiturates are the first-line therapy to treat anxiety …"

"And you call yourself an expert on the subject?"

Hankinson bristled. "You _are_ trying to insult me."

Judy actually gave her a smile, a rather sinister looking one. "No, I'm not. I actually don't need to, because you're doing a great job doing it yourself."

Hankinson narrowed her eyes, but remained silent. Judy dropped the smile. "Isn't it true that barbiturates have long since been replaced by benzodiazepine?" When Hankinson didn't respond, Judy continued: "Isn't it true that they have been replaced because they're considered way too dangerous, way too addictive, to have way too many damaging side effects? Isn't it true that they have been replaced because in case of an accidental overdose, there is no antidote?"

Nick took over. "If your friend's such an expert, why didn't he prescribe the true first-line therapy, relying on the second-best drugs instead?"

Hankinson took a deep breath. "Because barbiturates still are a very effective drug for treating anxiety disorders. When taken in the correct amounts, the risks are minimal."

"It's such a shame they weren't taken in the correct amounts, isn't it?" Judy said softly.

Hankinson shrugged. "Is it my fault my husband took too many pills?"

"Oh, we don't think he did."

Hankinson said nothing, so Nick took over again. "I don't know if you know this, Mrs. Hankinson, but there's only one pharmaceutical company left in Zootopia, named Lopez Pharmaceuticals, that still produces Barbies, barbells, whatever. We actually paid them a visit, and they showed us the production line. And let me tell you, the stuff _reeks_! According to their master chemists, it tastes just as bad. Which is exactly the way they want it to be. They actually add an agent to the drug to make sure it smells and tastes horrible, so nobody could use it to poison someone else."

"This hasn't always been the case, however," Judy continued. "In the past, the drug purportedly was almost taste- and odorless. And it was obviously used as, for example, a truth serum or a date-rape drug. Which gave the company quite some bad publicity, so they changed the mixture to add the pungent smell and taste."

Nick approached Hankinson, closing the gap to her to a few inches. "That was some thirteen years ago. All the old drugs, the odorless ones, are way past their expirations dates by now. But they'd probably still be effective. Some components of the drug may become weaker with age, maybe even become completely ineffective, but the main ingredient supposedly isn't one of them - it stays just as strong as before. At least, that's what the guys at the company told me, and they should know, they make the stuff. In their own words, no matter how old the drugs are, they still pack a punch about as big as that of the new ones. And they're virtually undetectable."

Suddenly, he dropped every inkling of friendliness. "You used your feminine charms to make old, rich mammals fall for you," he growled. "You made sure they made you their sole heir. You had your friend make phony diagnoses. You made him prescribe drugs that are considered dangerous by every expert on this planet, drugs that no self-respecting doctor would prescribe anymore nowadays. Not when there are better, safer options. You made sure the drug always was in your late husbands' bloodstreams, just in case someone would suspect foul play. Nobody would ever think that anything's amiss if the dosage was just way higher than it should have been. Which it was, because you poisoned them! You used your old pills and mixed them into your husbands' drinks, turning the harmless drinks into cups of hemlock! And they drank them, because the drinks smelled and tasted perfectly normal! And to sum it up, you made your friend write phony death certificates that aren't worth the ink he needed to write them!"

Hankinson just stared at him. Judy picked up a piece of paper from the table. "This, Mrs. Hankinson, is a search warrant for your villa. Tell me, how likely do you think it is for us to come across a batch of barbiturates which is long past its expiration date? Tasteless and odorless pills you mixed into your husbands' drinks to kill them?"

Hankinson's jaw dropped, all color drained from under her fur.

Nick gave her a look of utter contempt. "I cannot recall ever having met a gold digger as bad as you!"

"You can't prove anything!" Hankinson shouted.

Nick gave her the dirtiest smirk he could muster. "We don't need to. We have Doctor Hennigan's confession on record. Some mighty fine lover you have there, Mrs. Hankinson! You are under arrest for murdering your five husbands!" He cast a look towards the back wall. "Officer Johnson, read her the rights and take her away!"

Patrick Johnson, who had waited silently in the back of the interrogation room, nodded and walked towards the table. "Aye aye, Lieutenant!"

Judy and Nick watched in silence as the zebra, now looking utterly devastated, was led out of the interrogation room by the lion. They had hardly left the room when Judy, without looking at Nick, raised her paw. Nick responded with a pawbump.

"Boom!"

"Badiladiladilah!"

Judy shot an amused look up at her partner. "Really?"

Nick shrugged. "It was a good movie!"

"If a tiny bit ludicrous. What would you have done with all the resources."

"Don't know. Become king of Zootopia, perhaps?"

"Zootopia has no king. Zootopia needs no king."

When they left the interrogation room, Adimar Mastiff was waiting for them. "Barbies?" he said while giving Nick a grin. "I distinctly recall you had no problems with the term barbiturate when you explained the case to me."

As the three of them took off towards the offices of Homicide Squad, Nick shrugged. "I just wanted to have a little fun. Sue me!"

Mastiff nodded. "I'd rather commend you. Good job, you two!"

"Thank you," Judy said. Then she heaved a sigh. "Took us long enough."

"We still need to search her villa," Nick said.

"Do we?" Mastiff asked while pressing the call button for the elevator. "We have Hennigan's confession."

Judy shook her head. "Which is completely useless if she keeps denying everything. It'll be his word against hers."

"Worse yet," Nick added, "we may have a lot of evidence supporting our case, but its usefulness is, on the whole, rather limited. We can certainly put Hennigan behind bars, but as of yet, we have nothing we could use to put her there as well. She can just as well maintain that her husbands wanted to kill themselves, taking more of the prescribed pills than necessary by themselves. There are no witnesses to testify either claim, so we won't be able to prove otherwise. No, we need the smoking gun. We need the old barbiturates, those she has no prescriptions for. If have have those as evidence, if we present those to her, it might be the final straw. Maybe it'll make her give in and confess as well. Would save us a lot of trouble."

As they entered the empty elevator, Judy jumped up and pressed the button for the second floor. She then turned around and nodded. "Right now, after this, she's shaken to the core, because she knows that we see through her game. What she doesn't know is that right now, we can't prove it. Even the drugs are no proof per se. I mean, who hasn't a few drugs at home that are past their expiration dates?"

"I sure have my share," Mastiff said with a grin.

"So have I. In the end, all this simply was a bit of a hustle, trying to make believe that we can cause her more harm than we actually can."

"That was the whole idea behind it?"

"It was," Nick said matter-of-factly. "Unsettle her, shake her, hope for the best. Did work like a charm, back in the days. Should work now."

"Sorta what you did with Fleecewood, eh?"

"Sorta what I did with Fleecewood, exactly. I guess I don't need to tell you that mammals who are shaken to their core are much more talkative."

Mastiff nodded. "How true that is! Still, that's for later. Right now, she's not going anywhere, and even if she's let out on bail, we still have our eyes on her." He made a pause and grinned. "Or one eye, in my case." They all chuckled at that. Mastiff continued, somewhat more sober: "Seriously, did you, by any chance, even have breakfast yet?"

As the elevator reached the second floor, giving its short ding, Nick looked at his wristwatch. It was still early morning, a quarter to eight. After having acquired the last piece of the puzzle, Hennigan's full confession, they had waited most of the night for Hankinson to return to her home after her tour through several clubs and discotheques. "No, we haven't, but to be honest, I'd rather deal with the search first so we can go home for a bit of shuteye. I feel quite tired at the moment."

"We both do," Judy said as they left the elevator.

"I can imagine," Mastiff said without any hint of irony. "You've spent almost two weeks working virtually around the clock to solve the case. I'll ask Bogo to let another team search the villa. Preferably Wolfard and Andersen. They're well-known for being able to find needles in haystacks."

"I don't think it'll be all that well hidden," Nick said. "You saw how surprised she was - she never thought anyone would make the effort of finding out what's so special about that particular brand of barbiturates."

"Probably not. Let them deal with it, so you can have a bit of well-deserved rest. The report can wait."

"That would be much appreciated."

They hadn't even crossed half the corridor that led to the Homicide Squad's offices when they heard the phone in Mastiff's office start to give its tiny tootling. Mastiff sighed. "I knew I should have taken the darn thing with me," he said as he walked ahead and into his office with long strides.

Only to emerge a few seconds later.

"Guys," he said, "sorry, but I'm afraid we have to postpone the shuteye for the moment. Two stiffs, in the back lot of a laundry shop in Happytown."

Nick looked down at Judy, who nodded. "Any details?"

Mastiff shook his head while handing them a slip of paper. "Ben merely said that the guy who found the bodies is in shock."

"Aren't they all? We're off."

* * *

Little more than twenty minutes later, they had reached their destination. They had hardly climbed out of their convertible when they were approached by a coyote wearing the uniform of a Sergeant. "Lieutenants Hopps and Wilde, I presume," he said.

They flashed their badges. "We are," Judy said.

"Sergeant Michael Hickenbottom of Precinct Nine, ma'am, sir. It's an honor!"

Nick smiled. "At ease, Sergeant! What do we have?"

"Two corpses, one sheep, one otter. And let me give you a word of warning: it's not a pretty sight."

"Who found them?" Judy asked.

"The shop's owner, one Mr. Phil Brooks. He usually enters the shop through its back door, and when he walked into the lot, he saw the bodies."

"Where is he?"

"Paramedics are taking care of him. So is his wife, one Mrs. April Mendez-Brooks. Poor guy got the shock of his life, and I can't blame him."

They crossed the police line to enter the back lot …

And Judy gasped.

Even Nick, who had seen his share of ugly sights while living on the streets, couldn't help flinching.

"Nice, isn't it?" Hickenbottom said deadpan. "About half of the sheep's body is missing, and if I may haphazard a guess, parts of it can be found in the otter's stomach."

"Do we have names yet," Nick said softly.

"No, although my partner, Detective Levesque, said that he knows the sheep, and I know what he means. I could swear I've seen that face before."

"We all have," Nick said grimly, taking a closer look at the body.

"We have?" Judy asked.

"Oh yes, up close and personal, the two of us in particular." He pulled his phone out of the pocket of his long coat and speed-dialed a number. "Chief, Wilde here. You can call off the mammalhunt for Dawn Bellwether, sir. We just found her body."

"Bellwether?" Hickenbottom echoed as Nick disconnected and pocketed his phone.

"No doubt about it. I never forget a face."

"He's right," Judy said. "That's her."

"A fitting end for her," Hickenbottom said.

Nick shot him a look. "Being killed is never befitting anyone, Hickenbottom, especially not in such a gory way."

"Of course not, sir, but …"

Nick sighed. "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's not that I'm exactly sorry to see her dead." He looked down at his partner with a frown. "What are you doing, Carrots?"

Judy had gone down on all fours to closely examine the otter.

No, she was _sniffing_ at the corpse.

And then she looked up at Nick, saying just one word.

"Nighthowlers!"

* * *

"Yes, Chief, I am certain. As you know, I grew up among _Midnicampum holicithias_."

Bogo looked at Nick, who nodded. "She's right, Chief. Once I knew what we were dealing with, the stench was unmistakable."

Bogo sighed. "Talk about bad news!"

They had convened in the "WildeHopps Dungeon," as Judy's and Nick's shared office was commonly called within the ZPD. When outfitting their office, Procurement and Logistics had taken the fact that Nick's eyes were very sensitive to sunlight into account, attaching blinds to the windows which partially blocked the sunlight. Their office was the darkest in the whole building by far. Which was a blessing for Nick and okay with Judy - rabbit burrows are, as a rule, rather dimly lit, too. Since the room was so dark, someone had called it a dungeon at one point, and the name had stuck. Some jokester had even pinned a banner to the door, bearing the exact same words on it. Rumor had it that the culprit had been Mastiff himself, who was notorious for pulling pranks on his workmates.

Their dungeon was fully equipped with two desks, one fox-sized, one rabbit-sized, and all the stuff cops might need in the line of duty. On top of that, someone had been smart enough to add a couch that was patently too large for both of them. It was in this very couch that Bogo sat, rubbing his face with his enormous hoof as if he was tired. Mastiff, meanwhile, was leaning against Nick's desk.

"I don't think it's that bad, Chief," Nick said. He and Judy were sitting behind their respective desks. "Doctor Peralta arrived shortly after we got there, and he suggests that the otter ate one of the flowers."

"Are you sure?"

"He seemed pretty certain. There was no blue stain, for one, so it's unlikely she was shot with the serum."

"What if Doug Ramses did something about this? The color, I mean. What if he was sprung from Elkatraz to develop a new serum which is colorless?"

Judy gave a tired-looking smile. "Wouldn't do them much good. You can still smell it, and you can't get rid of the smell that easily. I told you about my brother's research, didn't I?"

Bogo nodded. "Right, I remember. No smell, no poison, right?"

"Something like that."

"So, flowers," Mastiff said. "I thought there were no Nighthowlers in Zootopia anymore."

"No, but you can find tons of them in the Tri-Burrows," Nick countered, pointing at Judy. "Her father still uses them, for one. And he isn't the only guy in Bunnyburrow who does, not by a long shot."

"Really?"

"Yes," Judy said. "You may need tons of permits to be able to buy and use them, but if you are a farmer and can document that you only use them to keep bugs of your produce, you can still obtain them. It's not easy, it certainly requires a lot of paperwork, but it can be done."

"In other words, everybody can go there and grab a few flowers, right?"

"Hopefully not," Bogo said. "And if they do, old Dusty Springfield will have a lot of explaining to do."

"Dusty Springfield?" Judy echoed. "What does Bunnyburrow's sheriff has to do with this?"

"After the Nighthowler affair, I had a little talk with him. I told him about the dangers the flowers pose, telling him in no uncertain terms that I'd rather see them destroyed. And _he_ told _me_ in no uncertain terms that this was a no-go. According to him, most farmers use them, because they need them. Throw the flowers out, he said, and crop yields go down by some forty percent, maybe even more. Most farmers can't afford such a loss."

Judy nodded. "So that's why we suddenly had so many Deputy Sheriffs in Bunnyburrow."

"In the whole Tri-Burrows actually. He agreed on recruiting several hundred additional officers whose only job it is to make sure that nobody's able to acquire Night Howlers. They run permanent patrols, around the clock, keeping an eye on all farms where Night Howlers are used. All other Sheriffs in the Tri-Burrows followed his lead. Fortunately, the Tri-Burrows aren't exactly short of mammalpower."

"There are other ways to obtain Night Howlers," Nick said.

Bogo turned towards him, his expression suddenly stern. "There are."

"Yes. Farmers aren't the only ones who use them. When we were paying Lopez Pharmaceuticals a visit, they told us about one of their latest pet projects, a drug which is supposed to fight major depressive disorders. One of the ingredients are indeed Nighthowlers. They add certain agents to the drug which counteract the hallucinogenic effect, so they simply induce euphoria without turning you savage. They said they got the idea from the antidote Doctor Badger developed together with Peralta. They managed to obtain the formula and are using it to weed out the undesirable effects. They're just in the middle of an initial test run, and so far, it seems to work pretty well."

"So they have the permits, too, right?"

"They have. Only for a very small number of flowers, though, just enough to produce a sizeable batch of drugs."

"And they're closely guarded, I hope."

"They are," Judy said. "They keep their batch in a sealed greenhouse in their back lot, which is locked at all times. To get there, you need to go through the whole building, and since every guy in there knows what they're dealing with, they're paying really close attention to everyone coming and going. They were positive that nobody has ever tried to get one of their flowers."

"So we still don't know how she might have been able to procure one of the flowers."

"There may be other players out there who have all the permits needed to cultivate Nighthowlers," Nick said. "We just don't know. What do you say, Chief? Should we look into it more closely?"

"Couldn't hurt."

"If that was indeed the reason," Mastiff interjected, "and we cannot say for sure right now. Do we have an autopsy report yet?"

Judy shook her head. "No. Doctor Peralta's working on it as we speak."

"What do we know about the otter?"

It was Bogo who spoke up. "Her name's Margaret Cinerea."

"You know her?" Nick asked.

"Met her once. That was ages ago. One of my first cases as a police officer actually."

"What happened?" Judy asked.

"Her son was murdered, and I was the one who arrested the culprit, years after the murder."

"She was present during the trial?"

"Yes. One of Lionheart's first cases as a judge, too. She was very vocal in expressing her wish to see the culprit dead."

"Dead?" Mastiff echoed.

"Hang on a minute, there is no death penalty in Zootopia. There never was," Nick said.

"There isn't, but she asked for it anyway."

"Figures."

"You know her, too, I take it."

Nick gave a grin. "You know what I usually say to that, Chief."

Bogo made a dismissive gesture. "Yeah, yeah, you know everyone."

"Correct me if I'm mistaken, but she's the last remaining member of the Cinerea dynasty, right?"

"She is."

Nick nodded, turning towards Judy, who was looking at him expectantly. "A little more than one hundred years ago, an young scientist named Lucas Cinerea developed a substance he called Bakelite, one of the first commercially used plastic products. He then founded a company to produce and market the stuff. Over time, the company expanded and branched out, always developing new forms of plastic. And they became hugely successful doing so. In the 1960s, they almost had a monopoly on the production of parts made from various forms of plastic. Until everything fell apart. The founder's grand-daughter, Margaret Cinerea, married a chemist who purportedly was fond of booze and gambling, so he squandered a sizeable portion of the family fortune. And their son, David, was little better. He apparently was such a bad egg that nobody really lamented his loss when he was killed. Somebody waited for him outside a restaurant and attacked him, stabbing him numerous times."

"Who did?"

"I don't know, Carrots."

"A dangerous lunatic named Sergio Coelho," Bogo said. "That wasn't the only murder he had been responsible for. Went to Elkatraz for that." When Judy opened her mouth, he raised his hoof, silencing her. "And before you draw any hasty conclusions here, no, he cannot have plotted against her. First of all, he received a life sentence, so he would still be in prison today."

"Would?" Nick asked.

Bogo shrugged. "Coelho died some twenty years ago when he tried busting out of Elkatraz."

Nick nodded. "Well, anyway, Margaret's marriage broke apart soon after her son's death, and the company went belly-up a few years later. She tried everything to make the company stay afloat, to no avail. She had the reputation of being a hard-nosed, ruthless, and very capable businessmammal, but her husband and son had amassed such a huge amount of debts, there had never been a true chance of survival for the company. Not even she could make it happen. It's really just another sad, sorry tale."

"And now …"

Suddenly, there was a knock to the door frame. They all looked towards the open door to see the head of ZPDs forensics lab, Doctor Peralta, standing just outside the office. "Hello, Gentlemammals." Judy gave a cough. "Oh, and Lady!"

Judy just rolled her eyes. "Do you have something for us, Armando?"

"I do indeed." He entered the office, putting two files on Judy's desk.

Nick looked at the files. "Do we really need to sift through all that stuff, or are you going to give us the quick version?"

Peralta shrugged. "Well, Bellwether's cause of death was easy to determine. Exsanguination. She bled to death, and very quickly at that."

"She bled to death?" Judy echoed. "Hang on, half of her was missing!"

Peralta shook his head. "That's not the reason why she died. I may be mistaken on the real order of events, but I think it went down like this: The otter attacked her by biting her thigh. That wound bled profusely - the fur on her leg was drenched in blood, so when Bellwether received that wound, she was still very much alive. She went down, the otter struck her in the back and broke her spine. We found some extensive subcutaneous bleeding, so she was still alive at that point. But she had effectively become a hemiplegic. From that moment on, she was completely helpless. Next, the otter tore out parts of her throat, opening all four jugular veins, plus she slashed open her abdomen, which partially ruptured her abdominal vein. Both injuries happened at about the same time. Blood loss must have been very rapid, virtually instantaneous. I tend to think that her heart must have stopped beating almost immediately. No wound she received after that, and there were many, bled at all. From that point on, the otter simply mutilated a corpse."

"There was no blood on the floor, right?" Mastiff asked.

"None at all," Nick replied. "They were both moved there after they were both dead. But we have no idea who did it, or where the murder itself took place."

"We don't happen to have caught any of this on the surveillance cameras?" Bogo asked.

Nick snorted. "Chief, this is Happytown you're talking about. The jam cams they have are few and far between, most of them are so old that they hardly work anymore, and if they do, most of the footage is so grainy, it's almost useless."

"There was no traffic camera showing the entrance to the back lot anyway," Judy added. "We have absolutely nothing to work with."

Bogo heaved a sigh. "So we don't know if there were other mammals involved."

"Oh, we know there were - someone must have put them there -, we just can't prove it," Nick said.

"Fudge!" Bogo sighed again, looking up at Peralta. "Were there any pawprints on the corpses? Anything?"

Peralta shook his head. "None that I have found. Nobody bothered to clean the corpses, still I found nothing of interest, no soil, no dirt, apart from a bit of dust. I guess whoever put them there had been wearing gloves."

"Well, what can you tell me about Mrs. Cinerea? Why did she die?"

Peralta nodded. "The otter. Now, that's an interesting one. Her cause of death was acute heart failure."

"Heart failure?"

"Myocardial rupture. Her heart literally exploded in her chest."

"Exploded in her chest?"

"I guess that needs explaining," Mastiff said.

Peralta nodded. "It's actually very simple The left ventricle of her heart ruptured. The most common reason for this is blunt trauma to the chest. However, there were no bruises, and from the looks of it, it seems more like the heart did burst from the inside, probably due to overexertion."

"I never heard of a heart bursting because of overexertion," Bogo said.

"Me neither, but in the case of Mrs. Cinerea, there might be an explanation."

"Shoot!"

"I found a very interesting mix of chemicals in her bloodstream. First of all," he turned towards Judy, "you were right, Judy. I indeed found the chemical agents contained within the _Midnicampum holicithias_ flower. However, I also found certain agents you would find in the Nighthowler antidote."

"So she was poisoned, and then someone gave her the antidote," Mastiff said.

"I don't think so. You see, Mrs. Cinerea was a very ill woman, deathly ill, I might say. She was suffering from multiple sclerosis in quite an advanced state. I found numerous lesions within her brain and her spine. She was very weak, both physically and mentally. I managed to take a look at her medical file. It says that on top of the usual medication she received to counteract the nerve deterioration, she was also treated for a major case of depression. Which is quite understandable, given her condition. I found a declaration of consent in her file, stating that she had agreed to be subjected to an experimental drug which may help her cope with her depression."

"Let me guess," Nick said, "the drug in question is produced by Lopez Pharmaceuticals, and its contents are extracts from the Nighthowler flower and certain agents derived from the Nighthowler antidote, right?"

Peralta stared at him. "How do you know?"

"We came across it while working on our last case."

"Interesting. Anyway, I found traces of the drug in her stomach, but what I didn't find was remnants of the flower itself. She hadn't eaten one. I would have found at least a few traces of plant matter if she had, but there were none. So the Nighthowler serum you smelled, Judy, must have come from the drug."

"Are you sure?" Judy asked. "We we able to see the production line, and the pills didn't seem to smell like Nighthowlers."

"Judy," Nick said, "you remember why I asked them if they were using Nighthowlers? The whole production plant was _reeking_ of them! Everything! I wouldn't have been able to tell if the drug smelled like it or not if my life depended on it. Maybe it did, and you were just unable to tell due to the stench. I wouldn't have been able to."

Judy nodded. "And your nose is better than mine. You're right."

"Maybe she overdosed on the drug," Mastiff suggested.

"Could be possible," Peralta said, "but during the initial clinical tests, there was no indication that an overdose led to the mammal becoming savage. However, heart infarction risk rose exponentially. I guess that's what we're looking at here."

"That doesn't explain the attack, however," Bogo said.

"Right. As far as the attack is concerned," Peralta shrugged, "I'm just as stumped as you are, Chief."

"Was there any connection between the otter and Bellwether?" Mastiff asked.

"Not that I know of," Bogo said. "When Bellwether came to power, Cinerea's company was on its last legs. She had all but retired from public life. They've probably never met before."

"In other words, all we're left with are a lot of questions," Nick said.

"And no answers," Bogo said with a nod.

Nick heaved a sigh. "Why can't things ever be simple." He placed his paw over his muzzle to hide a wide yawn. Which triggered a yawn from Judy.

Seeing this, Bogo asked: "You haven't slept since when?"

"Sorry, boss," Nick said, checking his wristwatch. "Almost 33 hours."

Bogo got up from the couch. "Take the rest of the day off. That's an order!"

Predictably, Judy started protesting immediately. "But sir, this is a very important case …"

"Hopps, we have no leads, no clues, just a heap of questions. Unless we find the mammals who put them in that back lot, we have nothing. Which in turn means that this case won't solve itself in a hurry. I guess it can remain in limbo until tomorrow. You've certainly done enough today." He nodded. "By the way, good work on the Hankinson case."

Mastiff added: "Wolfard found the barbiturates in a medicine cabinet in Hankinson's bathroom, basically in plain sight. Since you were busy, I took the liberty to present her with them in your stead. Worked like a charm indeed. She broke down completely and gave a full confession."

Nick smiled. "Good. Just what we needed to hear." He got up. "Come on, Carrots, let's go home!"

"But, Nick …"

"Didn't you hear the Chief? It was an order!"

"As if you're always following orders!"

"You hurt me, Fluff!"

Mastiff grinned. "I don't wanna see you back here until you've had a good night's sleep, Judy."

Judy sighed in resignation, getting up herself. "If you say so."

Nick gave a mock salute. "Acknowledged, sir!"

Mastiff snorted. "Get lost, you two!"

* * *

 **So our heroes have no clue. Let's see how long it stays that way …**

 **This chapter actually became much bigger than I had anticipated at the onset. So many ideas, so many things I needed to do - this story is promising to become humongous!**

 **As far as the case the chapter starts with is concerned, it has no impact on this story whatsoever. It's simply dealing with an oversight of mine: I had, so far, not shown Nick and Judy team up to simply do what they're paid to do, and I had always wanted to do so. The crime itself was inspired by a German crime series called "Tatort." In one episode of the series, named "Krumme Hunde," barbiturates which are way past their expiration dates are indeed used to cause lethal overdoses. And that's all there is to it.**

 **Now, the obligatory quotes:**

 **The first thing on our docket is not a quote per se, but anyone able to name all former and current WWE wrestlers I hid in this chapter receives a very special honorific mention. Which probably is quite tough, seeing that I used their real names instead of their ring names. (Just so you know, I have hidden no less than eight names, and at least one of them will probably be hard to spot.)**

 **I refer to one movie in this chapter. Which one is it? Shouldn't be too hard.**

 **What quote did I lend from the movie "The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring?" Quite easy as well, I think.**

 **I hid a combined doodad in this one, a reference to both "The Simpsons" and an English pop singer. I'd be surprised if you won't be able to find it with ease.**

 **Well, that's it for the moment. The next chapter will leave our heroes for a bit, because I still need to introduce the last major player to this puzzle. So stay tuned!**

 **Thanks for reading, and if you'd be willing to send me a review, I'd be elated!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	14. Chapter 14 - Fixing

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **Sorry for the short hiatus. Lots of things to do over the Easter holidays, including heaps of singing. My throat was quite raw for a few days. But everything's fine now, meaning I'm back in action!**

 **The current stats are like this: More than 21,100 views, 150 reviews, 127 favorites, and 205 alerts. Thanks to all of you out there!**

 **The huge number of reviews I received is mainly due to the fact that both Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps and DrummerMax64 took up the task of re-reading this story from the beginning, providing me with a running commentary that was both hugely entertaining and insightful - many thanks for that! On top of that, I also received reviews from Combat Engineer, Dirtkid123, one guest, Thou Craggy Knob, tweiler18, and HawkTooth. I bow down in gratitude towards all of you!**

 **Now, the obligatory quotes.**

 **First of all, the Star Wars reference from chapter twelve is still unaccounted for. I'm waiting, you know …**

 **While re-reading the story, DrummerMax64 finally found the Spinal Tap reference from chapter eight that I have already revealed in chapter eleven! Never thought I'd see the day! A bit too late, yes, still, good work, DrummerMax!**

 **Now, the WWE wrestlers: Although a few guys found some of them, the winner by submission and new WWE Universal Champion is Thou Craggy Knob! He found all eight actual or former WWE wrestlers:**

 **Michael Hickenbottom's the real name of The Heartbreak Kid Shawn Michaels. (Also found by tweiler18, and our anonymous guest. The latter also asked just how stupid I must be to think he/she wouldn't find it. Uh, dear Guest, that was just ONE out of EIGHT, and the easiest one by far!)**

 **Shawn Michaels' partner in crime, The Game Triple H, was born Paul Levesque. (Also found by tweiler18.)**

 **I also had to include my personal favorite by far and away, The Best in the World, CM Punk, whose real name is Phil Brooks.**

 **And when you mention CM Punk, his real-life wife, April Mendez-Brooks aka AJ Lee, can't be far away.**

 **I also added CM Punk's former partner in the Straight Edge Society, Luke Gallows, whose real name is Andrew Hankinson.**

 **John Hennigan had many names during his wrestling career, among them John Morrison, Johnny Nitro, and Johnny Mundo, and I have no idea how he calls himself nowadays.**

 **When Johnny Nitro was teaming up with Joey Mercury in MNM, their valet/manager, Melina Perez, was only known under her first name.**

 **Finally, Lopez Pharmaceuticals is a nutty bow towards Colby Lopez, who's known as The Architect Seth Rollins. (I really thought this would be tougher to spot … color me impressed, Thou Craggy Knob!)**

 **On top of that, Thou Craggy Knob also found the "Simpsons" reference: The English singer and producer Mary Isobel Catherine Bernadette O'Brien (what a name!) gave me this little gem when she took the hometown of The Simpsons and added Dusty to create her stage name Dusty Springfield. (Although I like to think her choice predates The Simpsons by … quite a few years. ;-) Dusty Springfield actually picked her stage name in 1960, while it wasn't until 1987 that Matt Groening created the Simpson family for The Tracey Ullman Show.)**

 **And to cap it all, Thou Craggy Knob (and HawkTooth) also found the quote from "Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring." During the Council of Elrond, when Boromir learns that Aragorn is Isildur's heir and thus the rightful King of Gondor, he says: "Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king." Just like Zootopia has no king and doesn't need one, according to Judy.**

 **Outstanding work, Thou Craggy Knob! Congratulations!**

 **Combat Engineer found the movie I was referring to (albeit with a bit of help by yours truly). It was, of course, "Big Hero 6." The scene I was referring to was the "Fistbump is not in my fighting database" scene, where Baymax responds to Hiro's "Boom!" with "Badiladiladilah!" I thought it was absolutely hilarious, so I was literally just waiting for an opportunity to use it. Congrats, The Best Fox!**

 **Now, let's get going, shall we?**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

 **Fixing**

 _And I would help her if I only knew how, but these things are a mystery to me, too._

New Model Army: "225" (Written by Justin Sullivan and Robert Heaton, from the album "Thunder and Consolation," EMI, 1989)

* * *

Madge Badger looked up from the chart she was perusing when a mammal entered the room. "Morning, Billy!" Her other four employees also shouted words of greeting in the general direction of the newcomer.

"Morning, Honey! Morning, guys!" Billy Hopps put his coat on the hanger next to the door.

Badger gave a smile. "You're late," she said in a slightly accusatory tone. Which was completely fake. She actually didn't care all that much if her employees were punctual or not, as long as they got their jobs done. And in that regard, Billy had never given her a reason to be disappointed.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry about that. But it wasn't my fault. Nick insisted on taking a detour to buy himself some blueberry smoothie, then he kept talking with the store clerk for ages. If not for Judy, who simply pulled him out of the shop by his tail at one point, he'd still be talking, I guess."

"I always told you you should buy your own car."

"If I had the money, I would."

Badger grinned at him. "Do I hear a tiny accusation here?"

Hopps returned the grin. "No, a big one."

That was just the usual conversational tone between her and her employee.

Hopps may not have been a full-fledged member of the team that had developed the antidote for the Nighthowler serum, but he had always been there, providing Professor Mitis with assistance and advice. It had taken Badger little time to come to the conclusion that his knowledge of the subject at paw was extraordinary, sometimes even surpassing that of his dissertation supervisor. He was pre-eminent in the field of botany, quick-witted, able to think outside the box, refreshingly honest and had a good work ethic. And a quirky sense of humor, which she liked - and shared.

So she had followed his further progress, of course, asking Mitis about his dissertation every now and then. And the ocelot had literally gushed about her assistant, explicitly calling him her very best student ever. After he had finally finished his dissertation, having changed the subject matter from nutritional alternatives for predators who wanted to become vegetarians to ridding _Midnicampum holicithias_ of its toxicity, Mitis had even gone so far to tell her that Badger would be stupid not to offer him a job as one of her lab assistants, particularly in light of the fact that she was in dire need of another one. So Badger had travelled to Bunnyburrow to tell Hopps, personally, that she might have a job for him, if he wanted to have it.

Her offer had come as an obvious surprise to Hopps, especially since he was well aware of the fact that his younger sister Judy had arrested Badger for her involvement in the Missing Mammals affair. But Badger hadn't even seen it as a problem. She was with Leodore Lionheart on this one: As far as she was concerned, Judy Hopps had simply done her job when she had arrested her. And since Badger had been pardoned, since her work with the team tasked with curing the Nighthowler poisonings had led to her running her own scientific laboratory now, since everyone in the scientific community, and the city of Zootopia as a whole, seemed to hold her in the highest esteem imaginable, no harm had been done. To the contrary - on the whole, life was good. Never had been better, come to think of it.

She had actually met Judy Hopps a few days earlier, and after some rather awkward moments when nobody really knows what to say or do, after a somewhat bashful apology for the arrest, they had gotten along surprisingly well.

Just as well as Badger got along with her older brother.

Mocking each other, that had always been just a natural occurrence at Badger Analytics, and Hopps's addition to the team had certainly done nothing to lessen the amount of teasing and the number of quips.

"Seriously, why are you still keeping up with Wilde?" she asked. "Every other day, there's one shenanigan or another he does which keeps you from getting here on time."

Hopps shrugged while putting on his lab coat. "You know how it is. Rental charges in Zootopia are through the roof at the moment. I simply can't afford an apartment of my own, and no, this is not a request for more money. I'm too tall to live in a shoebox, like my sister did. Even with a salary three times as high, I wouldn't be able to afford anything else. And since Nick offered me a room with plenty of space to stretch my legs, I simply couldn't say No. I don't even need to pay a rent. All I need to do is sometimes buy groceries and stuff, and help with house cleaning. Would you have declined such an offer?"

Badger nodded. "Certainly not. I would have jumped at the opportunity, too. How's your sister, by the way?"

Hopps frowned. "She's fine. Why?"

"Well, myxomatosis is nothing to trifle with. There are a lot of nasty long-term repercussions."

"She has none of them. Just last week, she had some medical check-up. Clean bill of health."

"Good."

Hopps smirked. "You like her, don't you?"

"I do. But I think she's more interested in foxes."

Hopps stared at her. "What do you mean?"

Badger guffawed. "Come on! You live under one roof with both your sister and Nick Wilde, and you don't know?"

Hopps remained silent for a few seconds. "How did you find out?" he finally asked.

"My nose is fully functional, you know."

"Ah. Well, it's a secret, sort of."

"Really? If I can smell it, others can, too."

"Well, so far, nobody has caught on. Fortunately. If this goes public, the ZPD will kick them out."

"That would certainly be bad, given their track record."

"Their Chief thinks so, too, which is why he tries to keep it under wraps."

Badger smiled. "Don't worry, their secret's safe with me."

"Good to know." He sat down at his desk and bowed down to turn on his computer. The next thing Badger heard was a series of beeps. "Huh?"

"What's wrong?"

"I have no idea. The screen stays black, and all the computer does is beep."

Badger rolled her eyes. Her employees' ineptitude when it came to computers was almost proverbial. Billy knew how to operate them, barely, he knew how to work with the applications they were using, barely, but his knowledge pretty much stopped there. Hardly a day went by when she didn't have to lend him a helping paw to solve some problem or another. That was about the only thing she was able to criticize, as far as his job performance was concerned. Sometimes she wondered how he had managed to write a lengthy and quite convoluted dissertation without any knowledge of computers whatsoever. "Have you checked all the cable connections?"

"Hang on." He got up from his chair, walked around the desk and took a closer look. "No, everything seems fine."

"Turn it off, wait ten seconds, then turn it on again."

He did. Again, the series of beeps could be heard. "Nope, still nothing."

"That's odd." Badger dropped the clipboard onto the laboratory bench and walked over to his desk. The computer's power supply was working, indicated by a silent hiss and the lit LED at the computer's front, but the screen still showed nothing but the color black, and nothing else happened.

Hopps made a small harrumph. "The only use of computers is to ease the workload you wouldn't even have, if not for the computers."

"That's one way to put it," Badger said absent-mindedly while still trying to turn the computer on, but the appliance insisted on refusing to work. She sighed. "And yet again, you managed to break one of my computers."

"Hey! It's not my fault! I've done nothing but press the power button."

"I know. It was a joke. Guess you need to call the computer emergency service. Try Cavia Hard- and Software Solutions. They provided us with all of our computer equipment."

Hopps was already reaching for the phone. "Do you happen to know the number?"

"No. All I know is the company's situated in the Rainforest District. You need to look it up." Badger walked back to her lab bench.

"The Rainforest District? It'll take the technician ages to get here!"

Badger stopped in her tracks and looked over her shoulder. "You know what they say: Good things come to those who wait."

Hopps gave a grunt. "I hate waiting!" With a sigh, he lunged for the phonebook.

* * *

"Hey, foxy-doxy! Pass me the soldering iron!"

For the umpteenth time, KayDee Fulva had to put down the circuit board she was examining, thinking to herself that at this rate, she would never get the job finished.

Which would certainly earn her the ire of her short-tempered boss.

And that, she thought idly, probably was exactly what her co-workers had in mind.

Maybe it wouldn't have been quite so bad if at least some of them would have called her by her name, but nobody ever did. To them, she only was "the fox," "the vixen," or some other, more demeaning nickname.

Life sucked. Badly.

"Here you are, Mr. Scrofa," she said while handing the soldering iron to the pig, who simply took the tool without even looking at her. Or thanking her for having done it. Not that she had expected thankfulness. She simply returned to her allocated workspace, trying yet again to find the fault on the damaged motherboard.

Only to hear another shout.

"Hey! Fox!"

KayDee tried her hardest to hide her sigh. "Yes, Mr. Cavia, sir?" she managed to say between gritted teeth as she looked down at the guinea pig standing in front of her, asking herself for a fleeting moment why she even bothered to be polite.

As a rule, her boss didn't give a damn about what she thought, as long as she did the work he assigned her to. Which she hardly ever was able to, because everyone seemed to have made it their lifelong ambition to harass her, to pester her, to keep her from doing her job. As far as he was concerned, she could have voiced her dislike towards him at the top of her voice, he wouldn't have cared. He disliked her anyway, for numerous reasons.

And the fact that she was a fox wasn't even the most important one.

Shouting a few choice swear words in his general direction would hardly have damaged her reputation any more than it already was.

"Got a call. A customer needs some help with his hardware. The thing won't start. So get a move on!"

KayDee got up from her chair. "Where to?"

"Badger Analytics, a science lab in Sahara Square. One of our best customers! So why are you still here?"

This time, KayDee heaved a sigh. "I'm on it." Without another word, she shouldered her backpack, grabbed her helmet and her denim jacket and left the building.

Just a normal day at the office.

Outside, it was raining. Of course it was raining. This was the Rainforest District, after all. She was absolutely soaked in seconds. When she had started working here, she had tried rain gear at first, but the torrential downpour she had come to experience had left her drenched regardless of the gear she was wearing, so she had simply stopped using it. It was pointless anyway. There simply was no rain gear for a vixen of her rather small size that would be able to withstand the Rainforest District's abysmal weather. And if there was, she couldn't afford it.

Maybe driving through Sahara Square would help making her clothes and fur dry again, but her hopes weren't high.

Mounting her scooter and starting the engine, which took her five attempts, as usual, she commenced with her lengthy journey towards her destination, led by her smartphone's sat nav. That one, fortunately, was both working fine and water-proof.

If the word "slow" hadn't been in existence already, her ancient, rather rackety scooter could have served as a suitable replacement. The ten-mile trip took her almost an hour. The location she approached was small and rather unobtrusive office building hid in a less crowded side street. Hadn't it been for the sign atop the door bearing the words "Badger Analytics" on them, she would have missed the spot. Parking her scooter, she took her helmet off and entered the building.

Inside, she was greeted by a honey badger wearing a white lab coat. She approached the mammal, paw extended. "KayDee Fulva, ma'am, Cavia Hard- and Software Solutions. My boss told me you had some troubles with your computer?"

The honey badger returned the pawshake. "Madge Badger, and no, not me. One of my employees." She turned her head. "Billy!" she shouted. "Your salvation has arrived!"

"About time!" another mammal shouted from some point in the back. "I'm sitting on my paws here!"

Badger looked at KayDee again, taking in her probably disheveled appearance. "Did you come here by motorcycle?" she asked, pointing at the helmet.

KayDee shook her head. "By scooter. I'm still wet, I know. Sorry about that, dripping all over the place."

Badger turned away, walking towards a door. "Not your fault. I thought Sidney Cavia had cars his employees could use." She entered the room and emerged seconds later, two towels in her paws.

KayDee sighed. "Not for me, he hasn't. Thank you!" She took the two towels and began toweling herself down.

"You came by scooter? No wonder it took you so long." Badger's tone, surprisingly enough, didn't sound the least bit condescending, but warm and caring.

KayDee shrugged. "Sorry, but it's all I have." Her voice was slightly muffled, due to the towel over her head. She took it off, looking around. "So, what seems to be the problem?"

Badger pointed at some point in the back. "One of our computers won't start. Maybe you could look into it."

"Of course. Where to?" KayDee handed the towels back to Badger.

Badger gave her a somewhat dirty grin. "Just look for overlong ears."

"I heard that, you know!" the male voice shouted.

"Of course you did," Badger began. When she continued, several other voices joined in. "With those overlong ears of yours." Laughter was heard all around them.

KayDee looked around, spotting five mammals sitting at desks or standing in front of lab benches. It was a most diverse group, with the only similarity between them being that they all tended to be on the smaller side. She saw two sheep, one royal antelope, one rabbit, and one marbled cat. They were all laughing at the quip, even the rabbit, who must have been the target.

What would she have given for having a working environment like that!

Seeing that the rabbit probably was the mammal in need of help, she thanked Badger one last time and made her way over to the rabbit's location. The mammal was sitting at a desk, perusing a thick book while obviously comparing notes strewn over the desktop. Hearing her approach, he got up from his chair.

And KayDee's eyes widened.

 _This has got to be the tallest, biggest rabbit I've ever seen!_

As a red fox, even if she was a smaller one, she usually towered over rabbits.

This particular one towered over her.

He was easily six inches taller than she was, and of sturdy build. But apart from his extraordinary height, he wouldn't exactly have stood out in a crowd. His fur was a light brown, and his features completely ordinary. His eyes, however, were a different story - they were sparkling with an extraordinary mischief, the likes of which she had only seen in one other mammal so far.

He offered her his paw. "William Hopps."

"I'm KayDee Fulva." His paw was enormous, much bigger than hers, but the shake itself was surprisingly gentle - KayDee had expected a vise-like grip.

"KayDee? Nice name you got there."

She smiled. "It actually is Kathleen Diane, but I couldn't decide which one should be my first name, and giving both is just too darn long. So it's KayDee."

"Most mammals call me Billy." He looked down at the computer. "So, Doctor, could you please tell me if there still is hope for the old lady? Will she make it?"

KayDee grinned. She liked the buck already. "No idea yet. Need to get my stethoscope." She made a pause. "What happened? You tried to turn it on?"

Hopps nodded. "Yes, and nothing happened. Nothing but a series of beeps."

"Uh-huh. How many?"

"Pardon?"

"How many beeps?"

"Uh, I haven't counted them."

"Well, you should have. They are the computer's way of telling you what is wrong."

"Ah. I had no idea." She shot him a look, and he added quickly: "You're looking at a complete dyslexic when it comes to computers."

KayDee gave him a smile. "That's probably the sentence I heard most often over the course of the years."

"Really?"

"Yup. Most people work with computers nowadays, but the vast majority of them have no idea how they work. Could you please turn the computer on?" Hopps bowed down and pressed the power button. The computer's power supply unit came to life, indicated by a quiet hiss and an LED at the front lighting up, but all the computer did was give a series of nine short beeps. KayDee nodded. "When a computer crashes while running, it can show you what went wrong on the screen. However, when you can't even start it, when the screen is still turned off, it cannot show you what's wrong. All it has is the internal speaker to tell you that there's a major problem. And the number of beeps tells you the whole story."

"Sounds logical, now that you mention it. So, what's the verdict?"

"Nine beeps, so we have a problem with the BIOS."

"The what?"

 _Alright, a true dyslexic!_

"When you start a computer, it begins a self-test, checking if all the components are in place and work to specification. One of the components is a tiny chip, called the BIOS chip. It contains all the data you need to start the computer. It gives life to the computer, so to speak, hence the name."

"Really?"

She grinned. "No. It's an abbreviation actually, stands for Basic Input/Output System. It contains the programs you need to start the computer, to initialize the hardware, to run the operating system. If this doesn't work, nothing will."

"I see. Can you do anything about it?"

KayDee put down her backpack and opened it to produce a screwdriver. "I'll tell you in a minute." She turned the computer off again, knelt down next to it and unscrewed the side panel. Taking it off, she gave a grin. "Quite dusty, this."

"It probably was like that when I got it. It's one of our older ones. I just came here some three months ago."

"Yeah, that's probably too much dust for just three months." Looking at the mother board, she quickly found the BIOS chip. And sure enough, the chip looked like it was no longer sitting firmly in its socket. Carefully, she pressed down on the chip to put it back into place. "Try turning it on again!"

"Wait a second! Shouldn't you close the case first?"

"Why? It'll still work, even when the case is open."

"I take your word for it." Hopps pressed the power button. Immediately, the computer came to life, the screen lit up, and the appliance started booting. "Eureka! Thank you!"

KayDee smiled. "It was easy. Sometimes the BIOS chip becomes loose due to heat expansion. Simply press it gently down into its socket, and it works again. Speaking of which," she looked at the computer again, "no wonder there was too much heat. The case fan's not working."

"Really?"

"Yeah." She pointed at the small fan at the rear panel. "This should spin and doesn't. And that's the problem." She gave the fan a tiny spin, checking if it merely was too much dust which prevented the fan from working, but the fan stopped again immediately. The electric motor was obviously broken. She looked up at Hopps, who looked at her with a puzzled expression. "Computers, when running, generate a lot of heat. Unfortunately, most hardware doesn't like it when it's too hot. Hence the fans. They blow cool air into the case, cooling down the hardware. If this doesn't work, you get all sorts of problems, loss of data, computer crashes out of nowhere, you name it. You had some trouble with this computer lately, hadn't you?"

"Uh, yeah. Crashed all the time."

"You should have done something about this much earlier."

"Hey, I had no idea! Can you repair it?"

KayDee made a face. "Unfortunately, I don't have a new case fan with me. But maybe you have an old computer you don't need anymore. The fan's are pretty standardized, so they should be interchangeable."

Hopps nodded. "Honey!" he shouted. "Do we have an old computer to spare?"

"Yes, we have," Badger replied immediately. "Unless the cleaner threw it out, there should be an old one in the broom closet. But it's not working, if that's what you're asking. I only kept it for the parts, and right now, it lacks both a hard drive and all its memory modules."

KayDee nodded in approval. "Good thinking."

Hopps left her at his desk. "I'll go get it."

While he was away, KayDee sneaked a peek at his desk. Apart from the numerous pieces of paper, it looked surprisingly clean. And barren. There were no knick-knacks lying around, no mementoes, nothing. Just a small photograph showing a host of bunnies. Probably his family - Hopps was easily identifiable, towering over everyone.

And next to him, a doe who looked positively small next to him, was smiling at the camera.

KayDee took a closer look.

The doe was wearing what appeared to be a blue uniform, complete with a shiny golden badge and a few orders of merit on her chest.

She nodded. Every Zootopian knew this face.

Were they related? Probably. Brother and sister, maybe.

Or was he her husband?

Suddenly, she heard a voice behind her. "That's my family, or at least a tiny part of it."

She looked over her shoulder. Hopps was standing there, a smile on his face. He was carrying a computer under one of his massive arms, a computer which looked rather old and worn.

KayDee turned away from his table completely, suddenly feeling awkward, as if she had been caught with her paw in the cookie jar. "Sorry, I didn't …"

Hopps gave a short laugh. "No need to feel sorry! If I was ashamed of them, I wouldn't have a picture of them on my desk."

She nodded, looking back at the picture. Suddenly she realized what he had said. "A _tiny_ part of your family?"

Hopps gave a grin. "Those are my parents and her first three litters. Plus a few significant others and their kits."

"Three litters?"

"Of more than forty. I'm afraid I lost count at some point."

"More than … Sorry for asking, but how big is your family?"

Hopps shrugged. "I have 275 siblings, according to my mom.

KayDee did a double-take. " _What?_ "

"Like I said, I lost count at some point."

" _275?_ "

"Yeah, I know. Irresponsible addition to an already overpopulated world. Which is why I have decided to never wanting to have any kits of my own."

KayDee frowned. "Don't you think your wife should have a saying in this matter?"

"If I had one, she probably should have, yeah. But since I'm single and not interested in doing anything about it, it's my call to make, and my call alone, I guess."

KayDee grinned. "So you intend to die an old bachelor, eh?"

Hopps returned the grin. "That's the idea, yes."

She put on a rather pompous tone. "It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife."

Hopps gave a guffaw. " _If_ I was in possession of a good fortune …"

"So you're not?"

"Not quite, no."

"What a shame! A large income is the best recipe for happiness I ever heard of."

Hopps shrugged. "Gee, I don't know. If people are really attached, poverty itself is wealth."

"Are you attached?"

"Too early to tell, I guess. I just met you, didn't I?"

This comment gave KayDee pause.

 _What the hell am I doing?_

 _Are we … flirting?_

All of a sudden, she felt quite flustered. To cover it up, she pointed at the computer he was still carrying. "May I?"

He looked down at the computer, as if only just now remembering that he was still holding it under his arm. "Oh. Of course! Have at it!" He put down the computer in front of her.

She knelt down immediately, screwdriver in paw, and opened the case. The first thing she saw was that the memory modules and the hard drive weren't the only pieces missing. The case fan, however, was still there, and it looked surprisingly clean and would probably work just fine. Unplugging and unscrewing it, she pulled it out of the case and looked up at Hopps, who had been watching her work in what appeared to be an idle fashion.

No, he wasn't looking at her working, he was just looking at her. Or rather, at her tail.

 _Is he … eyeballing me?_

She gave her tail an experimental wag.

And his eyes widened.

 _He IS eyeballing me!_

 _Why is he eyeballing me?_

"There we are," she said loudly, and he flinched as if being taken by surprise.

And there was no mistaking the slight red tinge which started to show through his fur.

"So that's a case fan," he said quickly, in a blatantly obvious attempt to cover up his embarrassment.

"That it is. Now, let's see if it works, shall we?" She moved over to the other computer, unscrewing and unplugging the damaged case fan. Less than a minute later, her deft digits had replaced it with the other one. "Well, here goes nothing," she said while connecting it to the motherboard. The fan started spinning immediately. She gave a satisfied hum and proceeded to close the case.

"Thanks a bundle!" Hopps said.

"Cub's play," she countered.

"To you maybe. To me, this would have been an exercise in futility."

"You never had to work with computers, I suppose," KayDee said while closing the spare computer.

"Oh, I need to work with them all the time. I just don't care enough about them to bother with learning how they work." On her look, he added: "Yes, feel free to call me an idiot savant."

"Aren't you quite harsh with yourself here?"

He shrugged. "Not really. Merely stating the facts. My household skills are an outright disaster, I'm useless when it comes to dealing with money, I'm not much of an athlete, don't know much about history, you name it." He made an encompassing gesture. "This is about all I can do."

She looked around. "Which is what?"

"Ecotrophology."

"Gesundheit!"

He grinned. "Yeah, I know. It's one of the nutritional sciences. It's part of what we do. Of what _I_ do. Everyone in here has his or her very own field of expertise. Ecotrophology is mine. Quality control in food manufacturing and processing, development of new nutritional concepts, things like that."

"Sounds incredibly boring."

"To the contrary, my dear. It's highly interesting, particularly to mammals like you."

"Like me?"

"Yeah. One of the biggest problems we are faced with every day. We have thousands of different species in Zootopia, but at large, they can be divided into two main categories: carnivores," he pointed at KayDee, "and herbivores," he pointed at himself. "Each group has its very own nutritional needs, and they couldn't be more diverse. For example, I can only eat plant matter. Feed me meat, I die."

"You are kidding."

"I wish I were. Maybe I would be able to cope with a tiny insect or a shrimp, but it'll probably make me feel nauseous for days. I simply can't digest it. You, on the other paw, are an omnivore. You can do fine with fruits and vegetables, but you can also eat meat. And sometimes you even should, because it contains all those nutrients that plant matter can't give you. If you rely on plant matter only, you'll end up being undernourished within a few weeks. And then there are those true carnivores who'll definitely be very undernourished very quickly if they don't get their regular helping of fish or insects.

"From a socio-cultural point of view, this is nothing but a headache. Many herbivores have huge problems watching carnivores eat meat. Which is why we have all those 'preds only' diners. Now, a lot of predators don't like this all that much. They are friends with prey mammals, but cannot go out to a diner together. So many try to become vegetarians, but in the end, they simply need their protein, their iron, their basic minerals, to survive.

"And this is where guys like me come in. My main task is looking for plants that could provide predators with all the nutrition they need. Tofu, for example, contains eight times the amount of protein that cabbage has, and it also contains several minerals quite important to predators, stuff like iron, calcium, and magnesium. Sounds really good for a true carnivore, but not quite good enough. So guys like me are on a constant lookout for even better ways for predators to try and live the vegetarian life. That's my job in a nutshell."

"You are right, this sounds really interesting."

"It is. But," he affected a sigh, "it's the proverbial needle in a haystack I'm looking for here. So many new plants are discovered each and every day, and I basically need to analyze them all. On top of doing all the usual stuff we do here, check food for contamination, determine the nutritional value of a product, or lack thereof, you name it." He looked her over. "I assume you eat meat every now and then, right?"

"I do, yes," KayDee replied, suddenly feeling quite sheepish. Then she asked herself why she did. This guy certainly had no problems with her being a carnivore.

"Fish, insects, or poultry?" His tone was very matter-of-factly, almost clinically so.

She raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, but is this the beginning of my career as your test subject?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. I was born in Bunnyburrow, and although there was one family of foxes in the neighborhood I grew up in, I never talked to one of them about food. Back then, I never even thought about their different dietary needs. So, as a matter of fact, you actually are the first fox I can discuss food preferences with. Well, apart from Nick Wilde, of course, and he doesn't count."

"Nick Wilde? You know him?"

"Of course I do! He's my sister's partner, after all. And her best buddy."

"So your sister's …"

"… the famous Judy Hopps, yes. We actually are from the same litter. Do you know Nick, too?"

"I may have met him, yes," she said evasively.

"I see. Nick actually is my landlord, in a manner of speaking. He owns a huge house, and when I moved here, he offered me the chance to move in with him, seeing that I was in need of a room, didn't have enough money to pay the rent for one of the overprized apartments you can find here, and he had tons of room to spare. So now I see him every day."

"So you must have talked about food with him, right?"

He shook his head. "Wrong. He's quite the decent cook, but on the whole, he doesn't care much about proper nutrition. Lives like a vegetarian most of the time, and when he eats meat, he does it in a most clandestine fashion, so not to scare any herbivores. Since neither my sister nor I have problems with him being a carnivore, I tried to get him to eat meat in front of me, but he flatly refused. I have yet to see him prepare a carnivore's meal. And he also refused to discuss the topic with me. To him, food is a necessity. The end."

"Yes, that sounds like him."

"Seeing that he's unlikely to ever tell me about his eating habits, I'd like to hear more about yours. So, fish, insects, or poultry?"

"Well, it's anything with insects, mostly, since it's much cheaper than fish or poultry. But if I had the money, I'd go for chickens most of the time."

"Ah. So the Poultry Shack's your kind of place, right?"

"Poultry Shack? Way too expensive for me."

"I see what you mean. What was it? 'Two clucks for twelve bucks, only at Poultry Shack.'"

She chuckled. "Yep, that's the one."

"You'd like to go there?"

He said it in such a casual tone, that it took KayDee a few seconds to take in the meaning behind his statement. "Wait, what?"

"Would you like to go to the Poultry Shack with me?"

She couldn't believe her ears. "Is that an invitation?"

"It is."

"To a _date_?"

He shrugged. "Call it what you will. I call it scientific curiosity. I've yet to see a carnivore eat meat in front of me, and I'd like to know more about the subject. About the experience itself. Why so many predators think that all the secrecy is necessary."

"You know the place is 'preds only?'"

"And I'm a scientist performing a scientific evaluation." He pointed at a badge adorning his lab coat, which read _William S. Hopps, Ph.D._ "And I have the credentials to prove it. If I explain it to them in a sensible fashion, I doubt they'll kick me out. Besides, I'm sure they have a few salads on their menu for guys like me. So, what's it gonna be?"

She looked at him, considering.

Was he asking her out for a date?

He had checked her out, that was obvious.

Was he interested in her as a test subject, or as a potential date? She had no way of knowing.

 _A bunny and a fox, on a date._

 _Well, stranger things have happened._

 _Alright, so he ain't exactly pretty, ain't exactly small. But he's funny, smart, quite charming …_

 _Oh, what the heck? Why not? It's not that you would mind being on a date with him. Can't be worse than the ones you had lately!_

 _Plus you can finally feast on chicken again!_

In the end, it was the fact that her mouth started watering at the prospect that made the decision for her.

"On one condition," she said. "You'll have to pick up the bill. I simply don't have the money."

"That goes without saying," he responded immediately. "I take you out, I pay for everything. Deal?" He offered her his paw.

She shook it. "Deal."

"Great! Tonight at seven?"

She nodded. "Why not? We'll meet at the entrance of the Poultry Shack, okay?"

"I'll see you there."

* * *

Madge Badger watched Billy Hoops and the vixen exchange their good-byes. As he picked up the spare computer from the floor and she walked towards the exit, a small smile spread on her face.

 _Seems like some things_ do _run in families._

* * *

 **So, that's KayDee Fulva for you. And with her, our cast of major characters is finally complete. In other words, this story is ready for take-off! About time! Took me long enough, don't you agree?**

 **And this is the plan: two more chapters to set everything in motion, and in chapter seventeen, things are starting to heat up - BIG TIME! And it probably won't take all that long: Chapter fifteen's going to be really short - it's a mere transitional chapter, leading to phase two of "Hammer," whereas chapter sixteen will sum up a few of the things that happened in the meantime. Plus I have to fulfill a promise I made way back in "Wound." And now you're probably wondering which one this is. Well, I'm not going to tell you! Just wait and see!**

 **I don't know why, but Billy Hopps is much more fun to write about when he's not the acting person of a chapter. I tried it the other way round, telling the story from his point of view, but it didn't sound quite right. Hence an extensive rewrite was in order. Another reason why this chapter took me a bit longer.**

 **Ecotrophology is, I found out, something quintessentially German - you won't find the job in most other countries, so I had Billy describe it to KayDee so you know what I'm talking about here.**

 **And yes, foxes are omnivores - they eat meat, but they can also digest fruits and veggies. For example, they do love blueberries, so Nick Wilde's a perfect specimen of a fox. (Don't know if that was intentional by the guys who made the movie or not.) According to the Disney guys, Nick is a vegetarian, since during his hustling days, he didn't want to scare his potential customers by eating meat in front of their very eyes. This didn't sound quite right to me, which is why I allude to him living like a vegetarian while eating meat only in secrecy, when nobody's watching him.**

 **I'm quoting a classical British author in here, three times actually. Can you tell me who the author is and which three novels I stole from?**

 **I also added a quote taken out of a song by Sam Cooke. Shouldn't be too hard to find actually.**

 **Another quote was taken out of a song by AC/DC. I'm curious to see if you can find it.**

 **And is anyone able to tell where I found the name "Poultry Shack?" Hint: It's a computer game series, and a quite old one at that.**

 **That's it for today! Thanks for reading, and if you could bestow me with your wisdom, i.e. send me your comments and reviews, I'd be grateful!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	15. Chapter 15 - Perfection

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **Like I said in the last chapter, a quick update this time. And one of my shortest chapters to date. In other words, there's not much happening in here, but the things that have happened, the things looming in the distance, well …**

 **This story boasts the following stats: More than 21,500 views, 157 reviews, 130 favorites, and 209 alerts. As always, my eternal gratitude's for you!**

 **Reviews were sent to me by the following exalted members of the human race: Dirtkid123, DrummerMax64, GhostWolf88, Combat Engineer, gistech, Thou Craggy Knob, and HawkTooth. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart!**

 **Thou Craggy Knob has struck again, finding most of the quotes hidden in the last chapter, and in no time at all!**

 **First of all, the British author I quoted was Jane Austen, and these are the quotes I have given:**

 **Austen's novel "Pride and Prejudice" begins with these words: "It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife."**

 **In her novel "Mansfield Park," I found this one: "A large income is the best recipe for happiness I ever heard of."**

 **Finally, the novel "Northanger Abbey" contains this quote: "Where people are really attached, poverty itself is wealth."**

 **On top of that, Knob also found the quote I stole from AC/DC. It's actually from one of my favorite songs of the band, namely "Whole Lotta Rosie." And this is it: "She ain't exactly pretty, ain't exactly small." Apart from the different gender, this description fits my idea of how Billy looks like a glove.**

 **Congratulations, Thou Craggy Knob! Great work!**

 **The quote from the song by Sam Cooke is still unaccounted for, which is a bit surprising, to be honest. The "Poultry Shack" reference, on the other hand, is really obscure, so I'm really not sure if anyone can find it.**

 **And the Star Wars reference from chapter twelve still hasn't been called out! Yes, it's also a bit obscure, but if I can find it, so can you. So, get a move on!**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

 **Perfection**

 _I was born in anger's plain. He was Abel, I was Cain. I am here, I'm hell unbound. Burn your kingdom to the ground._

Metallica: "Here Comes Revenge" (Written by James Hetfield and Lars Ulrich, from the album "Hardwired … to Self-Destruct," Blackened, 2016)

* * *

For almost five weeks, little had been seen or heard of Doug Ramses. As far as most mammals within the compound knew, he might have vanished from the face of the earth. Some thought he had.

Only a select few mammals knew that he was knee-deep in the most demanding amount of work imaginable, that he had no time to spare on such simple amenities like socializing or sharing meals with other mammals.

Being forced to watch Bellwether's gruesome death had shocked him beyond belief. Especially since Moritz Kaffer had left him under no misconception: If he didn't deliver, he would be next.

And results were not forthcoming.

His attempts to cover the serum's smell by using other crocus variants turned out to be a total flop - the stench was still recognizable. Other plants had proven to have a detrimental effect on the serum itself, either weakening it to a point where it's effectiveness became dubious, or strengthening it to such a degree that immediate heart failures were as sure as the death the targeted mammals would suffer as a result. The fish and poultry he tested the drug on died in droves.

After weeks of failure upon abject failure, Ramses was beginning to become desperate. At night, his dreams were filled with images of him lying in a pool of his own blood, being torn to shreds by a savage predator, either a lion of a fox. Or of him being riddled with bullets, shot down by a furious buffalo with a Tommy gun in his hooves.

He had no idea which fate would be worse.

But sometimes, when a door is closed upon you, life opens a window.

And his window came in the shape of a female antelope.

* * *

With a beep and a hiss, the intercom on his desk came to life. "Mr. Kaffer? Mr. Ramses would like to have a few minutes of your time, sir."

Kaffer nodded to himself. Had Ramses finally made headway on his attempts to rid the Nighthowler serum of its smell? About time he did! "Send him in, Cynthia. And thank you."

Merely seconds later, the door opened, and Doug Ramses walked into the room. After having closed the massive door again, he walked towards the desk, a tiny-looking beaker containing a clear liquid in his left hoof.

Kaffer watched him, noticing just how devastated the ram looked. His clothes were wrinkled, as if he had slept in them - he probably had -, his fleece was unkempt, his eyes bloodshot, with huge rings highlighting them. Ever since he had completed the basic serum, he had lost weight and all the usual spring in his step.

He almost looked like a dead mammal walking.

"And?" Kaffer asked as soon as Ramses had reached the desk, pointing at one of the empty chairs in front of it.

Without words, Ramses placed the beaker on the desktop and proceeded to climb into the indicated chair. He literally slumped into it, looking every bit like a completely wasted mammal.

Kaffer raised an eyebrow. This didn't bode well.

Ramses took a deep breath. "There it is. I'm done."

Surprised, Kaffer looked at the seemingly innocuous beaker. It was small, merely big enough to hold a few centiliters of liquid, and it had been carefully corked up. "You are?" He made a pause and added coolly: "It certainly took you long enough."

To his astonishment, Ramses started laughing. "It sure did, didn't it? My own stupidity actually. Tried to use flowers to cover the smell, when the solution was much more simple. Should have found the solution ages ago."

"You managed to cover the smell?"

"I did."

"Completely?"

Ramses pointed at the beaker. "Take a whiff."

"Is it safe?"

"It is. Touching it, however, might be a bad idea."

Kaffer lunged for the beaker, which was difficult enough as it was, since it was patently too small for his massive hoof, and proceeded to uncork it. Almost immediately, the air around him was suffused with a scent that was almost sickly sweet. It smelled absolutely repulsive.

But, more importantly, Kaffer wasn't able to make out any hint that the liquid contained the Nighthowler serum.

"Smells disgusting, doesn't it?" Ramses said.

"What is it?"

"That's basically a synthetic fragrance. HHCB, to be precise. Might have overdone it, but it certainly works."

"HHCB?"

"A mixture of isomers commonly used to cover the smell of detergents. According to the guys making it, is has a sweet odor reminding of flowers and wood." He sniffed. "Doesn't smell anything like flowers to me, to be honest. More like a really cheap prossie perfume."

"But it does the trick. What gave you the idea?"

Ramses pointed over his shoulder at the door. "Your secretary actually. She came into my lab once, and I noticed her perfume, or rather, I noticed that it covered her natural scent. Since my attempts to cover the smell using flowers wasn't working, I began using different synthetic fragrances. This one here gave me the best results."

"So the scent of the Nighthowlers basically is still there."

"It is, but I guess nobody will be able to make it out over this stench."

"Most certainly not." Kaffer sniffed the beaker and had to repress a shudder. "This does not smell pleasant."

"Does it need to?"

"It could smell like rotting carcasses, I would not mind. The serum itself still works?"

"Like a charm."

Replacing the cork and putting the beaker back on his desk again, Kaffer looked at Ramses. "Once again, you have outdone yourself, Doug. Excellent work!"

"Thank you."

"You should take a rest. You most definitely earned it."

"I will."

"When you are fully rested, I already have the first target for you. And I need you at the top of your game for this one. The victim is a cheetah."

Ramses shrugged. "I hit a tiny otter through the open window of a fast-moving car. He can be fast, but I'll still be able to hit him."

"Not him, her."

"A woman? We never targeted women before."

"That would be because Bellwether had no real plan in mind. I have. There are a lot of reasons why I picked this particular mammal. Reasons that are none of your concern. After you have rested, I will give you the details."

Ramses nodded and got up. "Fine with me. I'm off to bed."

Kaffer gave a small smile. "Sleep tight!"

Without another word, Ramses turned towards the door and left the room, leaving Kaffer alone.

The buffalo looked at the beaker again, the small smile still on his face. It looked strange on his features, a smile devoid of happiness, devoid of joy.

A smile looking most sinister, most evil.

He had almost lost hope. He had never thought his plan would ever come together.

Now, he was looking at the embodiment of perfection!

Revenge was finally in his grasp!

* * *

 **HHCB, more commonly known as Galaxolide, is indeed a synthetic fragrance used to cover the smell of detergents. A rather accidental discovery I made while researching stuff you could use to cover stenches. First, I thought of just using musk, basically turning the Nighthowler serum into a perfume, but this one sounded much more promising. Since I'm not a chemist, I have no idea if this could work, but in my world, it just does. Sue me!**

 **At one point, I could almost feel with Ramses here, sans the nightmares. Finding this was such a bother!**

 **There are no quotes to be found in this chapter, at least I didn't bother looking for some. Seeing that we still have a few old ones unaccounted for, I guess you still have enough work on your paws, hooves, whatever.**

 **Thank you for following this story so far, and also thanks for your reviews!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	16. Chapter 16 - Old Acquaintances

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **Welcome back to the weird, wacky, and (hopefully) wonderful world of TheCatweazle!**

 **This chapter does little more than wrap up a few topics before I will dive head-first into the thick of things. This is the calm before the storm, so to speak. So enjoy it while it lasts …**

 **These are the current stats: This story was viewed almost 22,100 times, received 163 reviews, 131 favorites and 208 alerts. A heartfelt "Thank you!" to each and everyone of you!**

 **Thanks also to Combat Engineer, Dirtkid123, GhostWolf88, and DrummerMax64 for sending their reviews!**

 **My dear friend DrummerMax64 found the Sam Cooke reference I hid in chapter 14. It's the line "Don't know much about history," said by Billy and sung by Cooke in his song "Wonderful World." Good call, my friend! Not all that difficult, was it?**

 **Which only leaves the Star Wars reference in chapter 12 and the "Poultry Shack" reference in chapter 14. I haven't given up hope yet …**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

 **Old Acquaintances**

 _Love is in the air, everywhere I look around._

John Paul Young: "Love is in the Air" (Written by Harry Vanda and George Young, from the album "Love is in the Air," Albert Productions/Ariola, 1978)

* * *

"Are you nervous, Fluff?"

"I'm not, Slick."

"Then why's your nose twitching so hard?"

Judy made a face, trying to stop her nose from twitching. It was a fruitless effort.

Nick laughed. "Relax, Carrots! We won't be the only celebrities there, and as long as you don't elaborate on your latest arrests, you should be fine."

"I know, Nick! This isn't my first ZPD ball, you know." She made a pause. "Doesn't make it any easier though."

"That's certainly true, but you know that you won't be alone. Nor will you be the first to arrive."

"Of course I won't! You're with me, after all."

"That's not what I meant." He pointed at a huge muscle car standing near the entrance of the building, first in a line of several cars that had just arrived at the same time. Their own convertible was fourth.

"Is that Bogo's car?" As she was saying this, the Chief's massive frame emerged from the car.

"It sure is." Nick looked at the tuxedo Bogo was wearing, which, while tailor-made and immaculate, still looked ill-suited to keep his enormous muscles in check.

"I don't think he wears tuxes all that often." Judy gave a chuckle that sounded slightly apprehensive.

Nick looked at her. "What are you so afraid of? Do you think other girls will outshine you? Because they won't."

Involuntarily, Judy looked down at the evening gown she was wearing. It was one of her newer acquisitions, bought on a whim while on a shopping spree with Fru Fru and her friends. Given its exorbitant price tag, she would never have bought it on her own volition, but after Fru Fru had gushed about how the red dress was complimenting her purple eyes (and had offered to pay for it), she simply hadn't been able to say "No." And after having seen Nick's jaw drop to the floor when she had modeled it for him, all her doubts had vanished at once. Apart from one. "You know I don't like to wear dresses."

"Well, let me put it this way: For a 'trousers' girl, you look stunning!"

Judy gave him a smile. "Thanks. You are quite presentable yourself, if I may say so." And he was. The form-fitting tuxedo he wore made him look even more suave than he already was.

If they had been alone …

 _Hmmm! Want! Fox! Badly! Again!_

Sadly, they were all but alone. And they had reached the front of the line.

Two attendants opened the doors to their car, and Nick handed the one on his side the car keys, then they went to the double door together. For a fleeting second, she hoped that Nick would offer her his arm, but there was no chance of that ever happening - as far as the public were concerned, they were no more than partners on the force and best buddies.

Appearing to be too cozy with each other simply wasn't an option.

Once inside, Judy's ears drooped immediately. To her, the din of countless conversations, while made in rather low voices, was still almost deafening. She spotted Bogo - at his size, he was notoriously hard to miss -, and they exchanged a curt nod. Apart from him, the number of mammals she recognized was small. Which was surprising, seeing that this was the annual ZPD ball. Yet there seemed to be far more mammals not belonging to the ZPD staff than police officers.

Nick, on the other paw, looked to be completely in his element. He greeted several mammals in passing, and he always proceeded to introduce Judy to them as well. In less than five minutes, Judy met one of her old college professors, the mammal running the company which built their tranquilizer guns, three councilmammals, one journalist, one movie producer, and one publisher. And of course Nick seemed to know all of them well enough to exchange a few words with each and every one of them.

By the time they finally approached their table, her head was spinning, not in small part due to the glass of champagne that had at some point miraculously appeared in her paw and which she had downed quite quickly.

And that's when she ran head-first into another mammal, literally. She looked up in irritation, only to find that the mammal she had collided with was Nick himself. He stood rooted to the spot, a grin spreading on his features. "Of all the mammals …," he said softly. Judy looked in the same direction he was looking and saw that most of their table was occupied already. She saw one pair of stags and a pair of fennec foxes, with one of the latter looking familiar.

The fennec fox in question got up from his chair, which meant he disappeared behind the table. Two seconds later, he reappeared again, a somewhat dirty-looking grin on his face. "You're late, cub!" he said in an accusing tone while approaching Nick with arms outstretched.

"Fin… Stan!" Nick exclaimed while embracing his old friend. "So good to see you, old buddy! I had no idea you'd be here as well."

"Yeah, quite the surprise, eh?" Stan Barks said, still grinning. He pointed at the stag. "It's Carl's fault. He's one o' the biggest financial supporters of the ZPD, so of course he was invited. And he jus' had to take me along."

The stag Stan had pointed at got up from his chair as well. "And it didn't sit too well with Stan, let me tell you that." He approached Nick and Judy and knelt down in front of them. "But my father was a cop himself, and so's one of my brothers. He works at Precinct Three. Of course I support the ZPD." He extended his hoof. "There's no need to introduce yourselves to me! Everybody knows Zootopia's best crime fighters. My name's Carl Kirby. Stan's my partner-in-crime."

"So you're the guy who invented the Revengers?" Nick said as Judy was shaking the stag's hoof.

"That would be me, yes." He looked at the table. "It actually is quite convenient that you are here tonight. I'd like to have your opinion on certain things we have planned."

Stan snorted. "Convenient? It's what you wanted, you big oaf! You asked for it, for cryin' out loud!"

"He did?" Nick asked.

"I did indeed." Kirby got up again, clapping his hooves. "So, introductions! This lovely lady," he pointed at the other stag, who had followed their exchange with mild interest, "is my wife, Amelia." He then pointed at the other fennec fox. "Of course you know Stan, but I don't know if you met his wife already. This is Barbara Barks."

Judy saw with amusement that Nick's jaw had dropped. "Your _wife_ , Stan?"

Stan gave him another grin. "Who'd have thunk it, eh?"

"So the eternal bachelor finally got caught, I see."

"He was." Stan leaned over and planted a kiss on his wife's cheek, who looked a bit flustered.

"And you won't be alone for much longer, right?" Nick pointed at Barbara's belly. Judy noticed that it looked a lot bigger than expected, particularly on her rather small frame.

"We won't. Three little cubs are on the way."

"Why, congratulations to both of you!"

"Thank you," Barbara said, now visibly embarrassed.

"She wanted to meet you for ages," Stan said. "And I did, too."

Nick shrugged. "Lots of things to do. You know how it is."

"Oh, I do. Saw your picture in the papers some two weeks ago. So, back in action?"

"Of course I am. Recovered shortly after I met you."

"Good to hear. And …," Stan looked at Judy.

"Yes, you'd be right. You _were_ right!"

"Told you so."

"You did."

Kirby, who had followed their enigmatic exchange with a slightly puzzled expression, cleared his throat. "I have indeed asked the mammals running the show here if you could be seated with us, because I wanted to show you something, and I would like to know if you agree with it." He pointed at the two remaining, empty chairs.

After having greeted the two women, Judy and Nick sat down on those chairs, which proved to be a bit too big for either of them, but not inconveniently so. After a waiter had provided them with drinks - a glass of Rioja for Judy and a Rosemary Blueberry Smash for Nick -, Kirby proceeded to produce two small pictures from the inside pocket of his tuxedo. "These are Gwyneth Pawltrow," the picture showed a female bunny with gray fur, "and Robert Growley Jr." This time, the picture showed a male red fox.

While Judy was still examining the pictures, obviously publicity shots, Nick said matter-of-factly: "So these are the two mammals who'll basically be portraying us, correct?"

"Portray us?" Judy asked.

"Of course, Carrots! I did show you the comic book, didn't I? Marvelous Comics are planning to make a movie about the Iron Mammal, and seeing that Tony Snark and 'Hopper' Hotts bear a certain resemblance to us, they needed actors that do so, too."

Judy looked at the pictures again, not quite sure if she liked the prospect or not.

To their credit, the moviemakers had indeed found two mammals who bore a striking resemblance to both herself and Nick. Gwyneth Pawltrow's fur had exactly the same shade of gray, and her eyes were also purple. About the only thing not identical to Judy was that her long ears seemed to lack the black tips. Robert Growley Jr., on the other paw, had brown eyes, something that could easily be fixed through contact lenses, and he seemed to be a lot less muscular. Yet she had to admit, he was just as attractive as Nick was.

"They certainly seem to look … do I really look like that?" Judy said.

Nick chuckled. "No. You look way better."

Not having expected this amount of flattery in public, her head shot up in alarm. Nick shot her a grin. "Relax, Fluff. Stan's in the know, and I guess you are, too, Mr. Kirby, right?"

"It's Carl, and yes, I am. Stan told me a lot of interesting stories about the two of you, including the fact that you might see more in each other than just a partner at work." His voice had lowered to little more than a whisper. "And seeing that my father was and my brother is a cop, I know everything there is to know about the appertaining laws. Rest assured, I will take your secret to my grave."

"That's … good to know," Judy said slowly.

"Apart from that, your relationship is the reason why there are plans to make Tony Snark and 'Hopper' Hotts a couple. Maybe not one in terms of a long-term relationship, but at least they will fall for each other at one point."

"That'll turn some heads," Nick commented drily.

"That's the idea," Stan said. "There's been so much bullshit goin' on with …"

"Language, dear!" Barbara interrupted him mildly.

Stan made a pause and cleared his throat. "Right. Sorry, m' dear. As I was sayin', there …" He paused again, seeing that Nick had begun grinning from ear to ear. " _What?_ " he snapped.

"I just wanted to say, being married suits you," Nick said, his voice sounding slightly mocking.

"You know where you can kiss me, buddy, do you?" Stan snarled.

Barbara started laughing. Looking at Nick, she said: "I'm trying to teach him not to be quite so foul-mouthed."

"The way I see it, you are doing a good job." Nick sounded as if he was doing his hardest to not burst out laughing himself.

Stan looked at his wife. "Right! Now that we're done havin' fun at my expense, may I _finally_ be allowed to finish my sentence?"

Nick made an inviting gesture. "By all means, be my guest!"

Stan shot him a look that spelled first-degree murder. "As I was sayin', after everything that happened with Bellwether and her cronies, after all the bad blood spilt, the world could do with a public interspecies couple, if you ask me."

Nick nodded, finally serious again. "I've been saying this for years. Do you remember all those couples we saw in the dark alleys of Zootopia?"

"I sure do, and I always pitied the poor sods. Bein' forced to live in the shadows because of havin' fallen in love with the wrong species - that's just plain dumb. And ugly."

"Couldn't agree with you more, old buddy." Nick took a sip.

"So do I," Kirby said. "It is high time for all of Zootopia to acknowledge that the world is much more diverse than the powers that be want us to believe."

"You certainly seem to have a liberal point of view."

Kirby gave him a smile. "I befriended a family of red foxes in my youth, a family shunned and ignored by everybody else. My own father threatened to disown me, until I reminded him that he was a cop for _everybody_ , not just prey mammals. That sure shut him up. I like to think he learned his lesson. At least the topic was never brought up again."

"How old were you?"

"About twelve, I think."

"Impressive! Most boys that age would probably not have spoken up against their dad like that."

"That's also why he was okay with my idea of Tony Snark bein' a fox instead of a wolf," Stan said.

"The idea of him being a fox had never even occurred to me," Kirby said with a nod, "but it's a marvelous one, so I ran with it." He leaned back in his chair with a smile showing satisfaction. "And the success proves us right."

"So the comic series is doing well?" Nick asked.

"It sure is. Or why do you think they have decided to turn it into a blockbuster movie? In the world of comics, the Iron Mammal has become a true icon in basically no time at all. And most readers seem to really dig the idea of him being a fox." He looked at Judy. "And his secretary being a bunny."

Judy nodded. "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but I'm still not sure I'm really comfortable with the idea."

Kirby made a frown. "With what idea?"

"With the idea of me being a role model for …"

Now, Kirby's wife piped up for the first time. "But you are, Judy! You are the epitome of a role model, living, breathing proof that in Zootopia, anyone really can be anything." She pointed at the picture still lying in front of Judy. "What you have done, that's so much more than all those superheroes do in the comic strips."

"Still, I don't like being in the public's focus."

"Well, you should have thought about this before cracking one of the biggest cases in the history of Zootopia," Amelia said with a smile.

Judy heaved a sigh. "You're right, of course. Still, I'd rather the people would leave me alone."

Nick chuckled. "I guess it's far too late for that, Fluff."

"Yeah, you can talk! You love being the center of attention."

With surprising swiftness, Nick became serious. "You'd be wrong. I'm just better at masking my annoyance."

"Come on! You really enjoy it when kits ask for your autograph."

"I do, but when they start stalking me when I'm about to go to the lavatory, things tend to become a teensy bit annoying."

"Did this really happen to you?" Barbara asked.

"It did indeed, and not just once. I've literally been asked for my autograph while standing in front of a urinal."

"What?" Stan said. "They really did?"

"Believe me, buddy, they did."

"Oooh, that's really crossing a line," Kirby said with a grin.

"And I have been asked for an autograph at a funeral," Judy said quietly. "That was when we escorted Bogo's predecessor to his final resting place, four weeks ago. Do you remember, Nick?"

"I sure do, but I don't remember you being stalked."

"It was only in passing. Some idiot tried to shove a notebook and a pen into my face while we were following the coffin in formation. I thought I had misheard him."

"Some manners these mammals have!" Amelia said. "I'd never do something like that. But," she opened her purse, "as it happens, I also collect autographs. So while we're at it, would it be too much of an inconvenience for the two of you if I would ask you for yours here and now?" She placed two cards and a pen in front of them, an eager expression on her face.

Nick shot Judy a bemused look. "Face it, Fluff, we're famous."

Judy sighed while taking one of the cards and the pen. "Looks like we are."

This was shaping up to become a _really_ long evening!

* * *

At the same time, another bunny and another fox were enjoying themselves to the fullest.

And KayDee didn't even know why.

In little more than three weeks, this was their thirteenth official meeting, as Billy insisted on calling them. KayDee, however, couldn't shake the feeling that they had long since left the official stuff behind and were, by now, just having dates - and quite a lot of them.

The first three times, they had met in "Pred Only" diners, where he, true to his word, had watched her feast on chicken and fish. And he had literally bombarded her with questions about her eating habits. It was obvious that his interest in the topic wasn't a front - he was genuinely interested in how a predator lived and ate. So she had answered each and every question of his - and there had been hundreds of them - with patience, albeit in a slightly mocking tone. And he had responded in kind.

Soon, the zingers had been flying left, right, and center.

She had such a good time, that when he asked her whether she wanted to go to the cinema with him, she simply couldn't say "No."

And since that time, they had gone to an indoor kart track, the gaming arcades, a slightly dingy jazz club, where he had surprised her by knowing every song they had heard over the course of the evening, an ice cream parlor, Central Park, and a restaurant which was much too fancy for a vixen dressed entirely in denim and a rabbit wearing blue jeans and a hoodie.

This particular night, they had gone to a discotheque to, as he had put it, "take to the floor." He wasn't all that much of a dancer, but neither was she, and their apparent lack of skills didn't spoil the fun at all, to the contrary.

It had been a long time since KayDee had had so much fun.

There was just one thing that caused her to scratch her head.

At this point, every reynard in his right mind would long since have tried to put the moves on her, but he did nothing of that sort. Even when walking her home, he always kept his distance. There was no touching, no holding of paws. He greeted her with a pawshake, and when they parted, he did it with yet another pawshake. And those had been the only times he had touched her.

At first, she had been glad about it - he was a bunny, she was a vixen, and as far as she was concerned, this was weird enough as it was -, but the more often they met, the more annoyed she was by what she considered little more than aloofness.

So naturally, she took matters in her own paws. Literally.

Billy had said nothing when she had grabbed his paw during their walk home, but neither had he tried and pulled his paw out of her grasp.

And it felt … _good_. Surprisingly so.

So they were walking through streets that were almost deserted, paw in paw, talking about this and that.

"Yeah, that's what I always wondered about. How do you scientists remember all those tall words? All those scientific names? I'd be completely lost."

"Well, it certainly helps if you know Latin, which I do to some extent, but apart from that, every scientist has their own methods."

"What's yours?"

"Whenever I need to remember technical terms, I merely turn them into a song."

"A song?"

"Yes. I don't know why, but remembering songs has always been easy for me. I listen to a song, and if I like it, I can sing along the second time I hear it. I have no idea how it works, but it does. And since that's the case, I just take a melody I like, sometimes I even write a tune myself, and turn all those tall words, as you called them, into the lyrics. Then I listen to the song a few times, and when I've memorized it, I've also memorized all the names, at least sooner or later. Has always worked like a charm."

"Do you have an example?"

"Several actually. I had, for one, some serious difficulties remembering the twenty standard proteinogenic amino acids. Until I made a song out of it."

"Could you sing it for me?"

"Of course." He took a breath. " _Glycine, valine, leucine, isoleucine, alanine, they all are aliphatic, so you will not see a ring! The lone mammal amino acid with one is proline. From protein we are formed!_ "

KayDee looked up at him in amusement. He had an awesome singing voice, a rich, sonorous baritone, probably powerful enough to fill a cathedral, and with ease at that.

 _I could fall in love with that voice!_

 _Now where had that thought come from?_

Suddenly feeling a bit flustered, she said quickly: "Not bad!"

Billy chuckled. "I'm not done yet. That was only the first verse. _With two hydroxyl groups you'll find serine and threonine. For sulfur, look to cysteine and/or to methionine! For bases, you have arginine, lysine, and histidine. From protein we are formed!_ "

"I guess there's yet another verse."

"There is. You have been keeping count?"

"I have. The current tally sits at 13."

"Not bad. Most guys miss one or two. So, now the aromatics!"

"Aromatics?"

He shrugged. "Just a technical term, means they have a ring structure and are therefore particularly stable, so they don't break apart easily to react with other substances. Okay. _Tryptophan and tyrosine and phenylalanine! Aspartic and glutamic are both acids, as we've seen. For amides, see asparagine and also glutamine. From protein we are formed!_ "

KayDee would have clapped her paws, but since she held his, this was impossible. So she merely said: "That was great!"

Billy chuckled. "What was it you said to me? Cub's play. Although to a bunny, it would be kit's play."

"To you, but not to me. One, I could never remember all those tall words. Two, I could never sing even half as good as you can."

"Why, thank you! Music's my favorite pastime. When I'm not analyzing food, I make music. Sometimes both at the same time."

"How does that work?"

"Easy. There always is a song going through my mind, a song that only I can hear. And I often find myself just singing, humming, or whistling along, regardless of what I'm doing at that particular moment." He grinned. "Most of the time, I don't even realize that I do, until someone asks me what I'm singing. It's only then that I notice that I did."

During his last words, he had slowed to a stop. She stopped as well, looking around, seeing that, to her surprise, they were nowhere near her own home. They weren't even close to Happytown, nor was there a streetcar stop nearby. Instead, they were standing in front of a dark bungalow, which looked oddly out-of-place in this neighborhood that consisted mostly of shops. During their walk, she had never even realized where they were going. "Where are we?" she asked.

"This is my home." His voice was very soft, almost subdued.

She looked up at him. "Why did you bring me here?"

He shrugged. "I'm tired, and taking you home now sounds even more tiring. If you like, you can stay here for the night. We have a lot of rooms to spare. I can take you home tomorrow. If that's okay with you."

KayDee still looked at him, examining him.

 _Is he … blushing? Kinda hard to see in this low light._

"Are you sure that this is why we are here?" she said softly.

He hesitated visibly, then he shook his head. "No, I'm not. To be honest, right now, I really don't know what I'm doing."

"Why did you take me to a discotheque tonight? I haven't even been eating anything? And you haven't asked me about my eating habits the whole evening."

"For the same reason, I guess, why I took you to the gaming arcade. And to the cart track. And to the movies." He sighed. "And I don't even know what that reason is."

KayDee used their held paws to turn him around so that he was facing her. "You know, most guys take a girl to places like that because they like them."

"I guess … I guess I do." He took a deep breath. "I like you, KayDee."

 _Ha! I knew it! He does like me!_

 _And what about you, KayDee?_

 _Do you like him?_

Now she was the one feeling embarrassed.

 _Are we really dating? As in, boy and girl, together, holding paws, smooching …_

Suddenly she realized that they were kissing.

And a thousand thoughts started battling inside her head.

 _He's a BUNNY!_

 _Hmm … soft lips!_

 _This is wrong!_

 _So warm!_

She felt his paws rest on her shoulders, slowly sliding down her back.

The kiss became deeper, yet softer at the same time.

And one by one, the thoughts in her head fell silent again.

 _I like this. I like this very much!_

When their lips finally parted after what seemed like an eternity, she found out that they were holding each other in a tight embrace. Which was fortunate, because she felt decidedly light-headed, and not because of lack of oxygen. She looked up at him again, into his brown eyes, at his lips.

She already missed their touch against hers.

So she kissed him again.

 _Yup, I definitely like this very much!_

Neither of them noticed the approaching car.

* * *

"And his name really is Stanley Artemius Barks III?"

Nick gave a grin. "It sure is, although I only learned about his middle name today. All I knew so far was that he had a middle name starting with A."

Judy chuckled. "Quite a mouthful!"

"You think Laverne is better?"

"Better than Piberius at least." Both laughed out loud at that.

"You know," Nick said, "I think he should have called himself Art Barks."

"Why?"

"Because, Art, as in art. Can you imagine a better, more fitting name for a graphic artist?"

"Uhm, now that you mention it, no, I can't."

"At least he didn't ask you for an autograph."

Judy sighed. "You'd be wrong. He did. Or rather, he asked me if I could give Barbara one."

"He did? Really? Where? On one of his comic books?"

"No, she has some kind of notebook in which she collects autographs. The book was sort of a collection of the _haute monde_ of Zootopia. There was a whole host of great names in there, including all members of Black Sable, the current roster of the Zootopia Zingers, oh, and Gazelle, of course."

"Funny they didn't ask me. How many autographs did you write tonight altogether?"

"84, I think."

"84? Wow! And I thought I was sitting pretty on my 40 or so."

Judy gave him a grin. "And yet again, I beat you."

"I concede the victory, and I do so gladly," Nick said with a chuckle. "Seriously, 84 autographs?"

"At least. Maybe even more."

"May have something to do with you being voted one of the Policemammals of the Year for the fourth year in a row." He pointed at the honorary certificate now lying on the back seat.

She shrugged. "As if you haven't been." She pointed at the other honorary certificate lying next to the first one.

"For the third time. I still need to chase you."

"Forget it, Slick! You'll never catch up with me!"

"Probably not. Darn it! You got me beat again! Why is it always me who gets the short end of the stick?" He looked at Judy. "So, did you enjoy the evening?"

"Most of it, yes. I didn't really enjoy the attention though."

"Like I said, Judy, you're famous. You can't get out of this one ever again. Not while trying your hardest to make the world a better place. Because you're just so damn good at it. And Zootopia loves you for it." He made a pause. "And so do I."

"You're at least as famous as I am. Probably even more so, seeing that you really know everybody." Now she made a pause. "And I love you, too."

Nick grinned. "How very convenient!" He turned the car into the street leading to their home. The day had been long, and right now, he was longing for his bed.

Long before they had even come close to their home, he noticed the couple standing in front of their home.

"Are they kissing?" Judy had seen them, too.

"Looks like it."

"Great! What's next? Now we already have loiterers using our dooryard as a favorite kissing spot?"

"Those aren't loiterers," Nick said, turning off the engine. He took off the seat belt and left the car.

"Hey, Nick! Where are you going?" Judy shouted, taking off her seat belt as well.

Nick was already approaching the mammals. Despite the almost complete darkness, it had taken him little effort to recognize Billy Hopps, who had obviously found himself someone to hug, kiss, and cuddle with. "Hey, why don't you at least go inside? It's much more …"

That was the moment he recognized the other mammal.

And stopped dead in his stride.

"Hello, Robin!" the mammal said.

" _Marian?_ "

* * *

"There you are, KayDee!" Nick placed a mug full with steaming tea in front of her.

"Thanks." She picked up the cup and inhaled the vapor. "You still remember my favorite."

"I actually didn't," Nick said with a grin. "It's mine."

"Ah." She took a sip, hissing as the scalding beverage touched her lips.

"So you are Nick's old girlfriend," Judy said with a smile.

KayDee snorted. "I was his squeeze, yes, albeit for only a few weeks."

"His squeeze?"

"Of course! It has never been serious, at least not to me. We have never been more than shag buddies. And that, we have only been for, what was it? Four weeks?"

"Five weeks and three days," Nick said softly.

"Don't tell me you kept count!"

"I actually did." Nick gave a sigh that sounded slightly wistful. "At some point, I may have entertained ideas of us being more than friends with benefits, but you're right, we never were."

"Why?" Judy asked.

"Are you actually _jealous_?" KayDee asked with a grin that looked rather mischievous.

"You would probably be surprised, but yes, I think I am."

KayDee's jaw dropped. "Don't tell me you and … and him …"

Nick approached Judy, who was sitting at the kitchen table, and placed his paw on her shoulder. "Yes, we may have blurred the lines between a professional and a personal relationship."

KayDee looked at Billy who was returning the gaze, a somewhat sheepish grin on his face. "Oh my! And I thought _I_ was the weirdo here!"

Billy's grin vanished. "Is that what you think we are?"

"Er, yes. No. Shit!" She sighed. "I have no idea!"

"I think the exact same thing every day," Nick said, sitting down as well. "I have no idea how we ended up in a relationship, yet here we are. Do you remember what I always used to say whenever we came across an interspecies couple?"

"Didn't you call them poor wretches?"

"I sure did. And now look at us! Now _we_ are the poor wretches. We live a life under the intense scrutiny of the public eye, yet we desperately need to keep our relationship a secret. If we don't, our professional careers are over, and you know what a lot of mammals think about dating mammals from different species. Tarred and feathered, those are words that come to mind." He pointed at both Billy and KayDee. "That's what you're in for, too."

"Assuming that we are indeed in a relationship," Billy said somberly. When KayDee didn't reply, he added: "Are we?"

KayDee remained silent, so Judy took over: "How did the two of you meet?"

"My computer at work was shot, and she was the one who repaired it," Billy said.

"So you work at a computer shop?" Judy looked at KayDee.

"I do," KayDee said softly, looking at Billy. "Did Robin … uhm, did Nick ever mention me?"

"No. Until tonight, I had no idea you had known him that well," Billy said. "I only knew that you knew him."

"He told me," Judy said, "but only in passing. There's a story behind your job, isn't it?"

KayDee sighed. "There is. Billy, I'm quite sure that this will put you off, but I'm a convicted criminal."

To her surprise, Billy merely shrugged. "And Nick's a former con-artist. So what? You were a hacker once, right?"

That one _really_ took her by surprise. "How do you know?"

"You know an awful lot about computers, but not much about anything else. In fact, I've never met anyone who knew more about computers than you do. And you told me that you didn't like working at that shop a whole lot, and that you would never have taken the job on your own volition, but that your choices were limited, that you basically had no choice at all. And I kept asking myself: Why is a girl that talented working at a second-rate computer shop, when there are so many better alternatives? Was she forced into that job? The conclusion wasn't hard. I was actually waiting for you to come clean about it."

KayDee took a deep breath. "I would never have told you."

"Well, that's obvious. You had countless chances to do so, but you never did."

"Because I hate it! I hate my past! I hate being a convict!"

"You're an ex-convict."

"No, I'm not. I was released early for good behavior, but I'm still on probation and will be for two more years."

"So this job of yours, you only got it because your probation officer sent you there, right?" Judy asked.

"Yeah, he placed me with the shop. And I hate it as well."

"Why?"

"Because everything about it is just a huge pile of shit! My boss despises me, my co-workers despise me. I build and repair computers on a daily basis, yet I'm not allowed to turn on even one of them. The moment I do, I'm violating my probation."

"You're not allowed to turn on computers?"

"I'm not. It was part of the sentence. I'm not allowed access to the internet, I'm not allowed to use them to write letters and stuff, heck, I'm not even allowed to play a computer game!"

"But you do have a smartphone, don't you?" Billy said.

"I do, but I have to hand it over to my probation officer at regular intervals, so he can check whether I really don't use it to connect to the internet. The only app I'm allowed to use is the sat-nav system, because I would never find all the places I need to go otherwise." She snorted. "My smartphone's probably the only one in the whole wide world with which you can only make phone calls. My probation officer deleted all other apps himself."

"That's hardly an obstacle for a seasoned hacker," Nick said mildly.

"You would be right, _if_ I was ever willing to return to my old hunting grounds. But I'm not. This is my last, my only chance at redemption. If I don't use it, my probation officer would know in an instant. And then I might just as well kill myself, because I'm not going back to prison."

"Why did you end up there anyway?" Nick asked. "I know you were busted, but I don't know the details. And by the way, sorry for not paying you a visit."

"I hadn't counted on you doing it anyway," KayDee said dismissively. "That's not what con-mammals do, visiting other con-mammals in prison. So, no hard feelings."

Nick nodded. "Thanks."

KayDee took a deep breath. "I was arrested because I became careless."

"What do you mean?"

"You do remember that I was a member of an elite group of hackers from all over the world, right? Well, one day, one of us introduced a new member to the group, a very skilled computer technician who seemed to know all the ins and outs of hacking into other computers."

"Let me guess, that guy was a fed, right?"

"What's a fed?" Billy asked.

"Short for federal agent," Judy replied. "Usually working for the ZBI or some other federal organization. They deal with all the stuff exceeding our powers as municipal police officers."

"Yeah, he was with the ZBI," KayDee said. "He had busted the member of our little club, but he wanted to find all his accomplices. So he blackmailed him into introducing him into our folds. And we all failed to do what we should've done immediately."

"Which was what?" Nick asked. "Run a background check on the new guy?"

"Exactly. We trusted our friend's judgment, so nobody bothered looking him up. And after he had established a foothold, he pounced. And he pounced hard." She took another sip from her cup. "Fortunately for the other members of our club, he had, how shall I put it, overstepped his authority. He was a Zootopian fed, after all, and he had no authority in other countries whatsoever. So he had no leverage on any of them, and the other countries' feds flatly refused to cooperate at first, seeing that the whole operation was bordering on being illegal. And when they finally decided to lend the guy a helping paw, my friends had simply disappeared from the radar. But I was from Zootopia, along with the other guy who had been busted before, so I got to bear the brunt of it. I was sentenced to ten years in the pen. That was eight years ago. Last year, I was released on probation, with the caveat being that I wasn't allowed to touch a computer until my probation period was out."

"What were you sentenced for, exactly?" Judy asked.

KayDee shrugged. "I was accused of theft of intellectual property and damage to countless computer systems. I had never done anything like that, but they didn't care, especially since I couldn't prove otherwise. It was basically my word against theirs, but nobody believed me, and everybody believed them. So I was convicted. There was no chance for me to get out of that one."

"What do you mean, you had never done anything like that?"

"I have never stolen intellectual property, and I have certainly never damaged any computer system. All I showed the guys whose computer I hacked into was that their security systems were just a heap of garbage. And that goes for all of us. We were all just in this for the fun of it. We all thought of it as a friendly competition, seeing who could get into the most systems. It was a challenge, hacking into other mammal's computers, leaving innocuous messages, but leaving the data and assets intact. We never saw ourselves as criminals, although the fed sure made me look like one. To me, it had always been sort of a game. "

"It wasn't a game," Nick said.

"Of course it wasn't. It never was. It has always been a crime. I see that now." KayDee sighed. "Unfortunately, life has the tendency to show you the correct lesson only after it's too late. Like they say, I was young and naïve. Or rather, I was stupid. Really, really stupid."

"If you're not allowed to use computers," Judy said, "then why do you work at a computer shop? Why not work at some other place, where the temptation isn't that big?"

"Because I suck at everything else! My probation officer placed me with several companies, but it never worked. I'm not a florist, I'm not an assembly line worker, I'm not a store clerk. Tinkering with computers, that's about all I'm any good at. I'm completely useless at everything else."

She took another sip. "My probation period will be over at the end of 2022. Until that time, I will be on my very best behavior. I will not touch a computer with a ten-foot pole. Well, apart from repairing them, of course. And once I'm free, I'll try to find an honest job, and it will not be at that shitty computer shop run by a tyrant and filled with imbeciles who think harassing vixen is a fun pastime."

Every inkling of friendliness left Judy in an instant. "Harassing vixen?"

"Of course, Carrots!" Nick said. "She's a fox and an ex-convict. Of course her workmates will be biased. How bad is it?"

KayDee shrugged. "Bad enough. My tongs and screwdrivers keep disappearing, My co-workers, and I'm using that term lightly here, try their hardest to hinder me from doing my job, so I never get things done in time. Which in turn means my boss is pissed off with me on a constant basis. So he keeps piling verbal abuse on me. But he does so anyway, and so do my co-workers. Wench, slut, foxy-doxy, broomtail … I don't think even one of them called me by my name, ever."

"What's that shop called?" Judy asked. There was a distinct snarl to her voice.

"Cavia Hard- and Software Solutions. It's a shop in the Rainforest District. Another reason why this sucks. I live in Happytown, so getting there every morning is quite the commute. And I get soaked on a daily basis."

"And you hate it when your fur gets wet," Nick said.

"So do you."

"Of course! Life's no fun with a waterlogged tail." Nick looked at Judy. "What do you say?"

Judy nodded, looking at KayDee. "The shop's probably open on Saturdays, right?"

"It is, but the workshop isn't," KayDee replied. "It'll be only my boss and one of his store clerks."

"As long as your boss is there, we have all we need."

"Wait a minute! You wanna go there?"

Judy nodded. "We are police officers. It is our job to uphold law and order. And when we learn that laws are violated, we have work to do. We'll go there tomorrow, and we'll have a nice little chat with your boss, asking him why he thinks harassment of other mammals is legal. What's his name?"

"Uh, Mr. Cavia. He's a guinea pig."

"Cavia? Sidney Cavia?" Nick asked.

"Yes, that's the one. You know him?"

"You know what I usually say to that, KayDee. Yes, I know him, and I also know that in his youth, he was quite the rambunctious fellow. Trespassing, damage of public property, breaking and entering, urinating in public …"

"What?" Judy said with a grin.

"You heard me, Fluff. I met him in high school. He was a few years ahead of me, and he had the reputation of being a real troublemaker. He liked to party, and whenever he did, he always ended up being completely blitzed. And when that happened, he did all sorts of stupid stuff he got in trouble for, like breaking into a china shop and destroying half of the interior. When they arrested him, he had caused damage of some, gee, I don't know, about 50,000 bucks. His family almost ended up in bankruptcy because of it."

"Really?" KayDee shouted. "This tiny guy?"

Nick shrugged. "Even a tiny guy can cause a lot of damage when he's in possession of a BB gun and starts shooting vases, plates, and ornaments."

"I just love it when thugs like him act like they are the high and mighty," Judy said drily. "We'll definitely pay him a visit."

"Yeah. Which should take care of one of your problems," Nick said, looking at KayDee. "So, now about the other ones."

"Which ones?" KayDee was puzzled.

"You live in Happytown?"

"Of course I do! Do I look like the kind of girl who can afford an apartment in Savanna Central?"

Nick snorted. "Who can afford an apartment in Savanna Central these days?"

"Well, you can, obviously."

Nick smiled. "This doesn't count. It's not like I bought it."

"No, your mother did," Judy said with a grin. When KayDee looked at Nick in obvious astonishment, she added: "Don't think too much into it. Nick's mom is suffering from cancer, so Nick gave her money to pay the bills. A lot of money. So much in fact that she was able to buy the house."

"Wait a second! Money you gave her? But that … you hustled other mammals out of their hard-earned money!"

"Yes, I did," Nick said. "But I received a full pardon, and the financial damage has also been settled, so nobody's any the wiser."

"You lucky bastard!"

"I wouldn't call him lucky," Judy said. "He got a shot at redemption, because he earned it. He deserves this."

"And you also deserve something better," Nick said. "What do you say? This house is way too big for the three of us. We have at least one spare bedroom you could make your own. Unless you'd like to spend your nights with a certain bunny I know." He looked at Billy.

Billy nodded. "I would like this. I would like this very much."

"You … you would?" KayDee was stammering.

"To be honest, I was attracted to you ever since I saw you. But that stupid brain of mine never really knew how to tell you."

"Neither did mine," KayDee said automatically, then she flinched. "Wait a second! No, I didn't … I never …"

"You weren't looking for a relationship," Billy said matter-of-factly. "Neither was I. But I'm okay with what we have right now. If you are, too, of course."

"So … so all your curiosity about my eating habits was just a front?"

"Actually, no, it wasn't. I was, and still am, very interested in learning how a predator lives." He pointed at Nick. "This scoundrel here hasn't been much of a help."

"You know I don't eat meat," Nick said.

"Yeah, right! And what about all those crushed crickets you add to your carrot smoothies?"

Nick's face fell. "How did you find out about that one?"

"My nose is fully functional, you know."

"And so is mine," Judy said with a smile. "I must have told you a thousand times, Nick, it's no big deal. We all know you eat meat every now and then. So just do it and be done with it!"

"From a strictly scientific point of view," Billy said, "you'd be stupid to avoid meat altogether. You'd be undernourished in no time. Particularly in your line of work, you need a lot of energy. Energy that, to a predator, only meat can provide in amounts substantial enough. You're not a rabbit. We need to eat a lot, you don't. All you need is a healthy bit of fish or poultry, and you're fine. Judy and I, we need to eat virtually around the clock to prevent being undernourished. How many times have you commented on the fact that we were always eating? Well, you would have had to do it, too, if you were really living the vegetarian life. But you don't, you eat much less than we do. From that point of view alone, it was clear that you had to eat meat every now and then. You would never have been able to maintain your physique otherwise."

Nick heaved a sigh. "Old habits die hard. I always avoided eating meat in front of herbivores."

"Well, here are two herbivores who don't care," Judy said. "Just eat what you would like to, we're fine with it."

Billy nodded, then he looked at KayDee. "Yes, I may have used my curiosity as a tool to get to know you better, but it was genuine. So was the rest of it. I may have gotten carried away at some point, but I think you suffered the same fate, didn't you?"

KayDee hesitated, then she nodded. "I did." Looking at Billy, she added: "And I enjoyed it very much."

"So did I."

Nick nodded. "So, you wanna move in with us?"

"It would have the added benefit of easing your commute." Judy pointed at Billy. "He has his own car, so he'd certainly take you to work in the morning and back home in the evening."

Billy nodded. "I would."

"I thought you didn't have a car!" KayDee said.

"Just bought it yesterday. It's a cheap, old clunker of a car, but it works, and that's what counts."

Judy grinned. "He was fed up with travelling to work with us."

"Of course I was! Nick wastes so much time talking to all the people we meet along the way, I never got to my job on time!"

"I'm not wasting time," Nick said. "It's called socializing."

Billy snorted. "It's funny how they call dawdling these days."

"But my probation officer told me to clear any moves on my part with him."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be perfectly okay with you living here. We are two cops, remember?" Judy gave her a smile.

"You would be okay with … with a former squeeze of Nick living …"

Judy laughed. "KayDee, hardly does a day go by when I don't come across someone who knows Nick since the olden days. He had a life before we met, obviously a very interesting one, and I'm okay with it." She gave KayDee a wink. "Just as long as you don't try to take him away from me."

"You would make her your mortal enemy," Nick said with a grin, "and believe me, you wouldn't want that."

"You're crazy!" KayDee shouted.

"Didn't take you long to figure out that one," Billy said with a grin. The three of them laughed, but KayDee felt much too flummoxed to join in.

"So, what do you say?" Nick said after having calmed down again. "I know that Judy and Billy are okay with this, and so am I. How about you?"

KayDee was at a complete loss for words.

 _Sometimes, Christmas does come early …_

* * *

 **That fluffy enough for ya? Well, enjoy it while it lasts. It'll be a looooong time before things can be fluffy again …**

 **It's time to get serious, Ladies and Gentlemammals!**

 **Congrats to DrummerMax64 for calling out KayDee as being identical to Lady Marian, Nick's old squeeze! I guess a victory toot toot is in order! *Toot toot***

 **The "Wilde Living Community" continues to take shape. Just three more mammals to add, two of whom you haven't even met yet … and it will be quite some time until you do. (By my current count, which is likely to change at some point, we will have reached chapter 61 before they make their first appearance.)**

 **The other thing I wanted to do here is show just how popular Judy and Nick are, because this'll also come into play later. Much later!**

 **The promise I had to keep, the one I was alluding to in chapter fourteen, was, of course, Finnick's full name, including his middle name, Artemius. I have no idea whence it came, it just popped up in my head fully formed, and I simply couldn't get rid of it again. Sometimes my mind goes strange places, man! By now, I sort of regret that I didn't call him Art Barks. It's much cooler than Stan Barks, that's for sure. But that's just the way it is, eh?**

 **For more details revolving around Finnick aka Stan Barks and Carl Kirby as well the "The Revengers" and everything connected to the Marvelous Universe, as I call it, I refer you to chapters sixteen to nineteen of "Nightmare."**

 **In case you're wondering, the Rosemary Blueberry Smash is what's commonly called a mocktail - a non-alcoholic cocktail. (Since I have no use for alcohol whatsoever, I often stick to those.) This particular one is created by mashing and mixing seven to eight blueberries, the leaves of one sprig of rosemary, and one ounce of honey syrup in the bottom of a cocktail shaker. Next, add one ounce of lemon juice and a bit of ice, close the shaker tightly and shake the darn thing with vigor for about ten seconds. Pour everything into a tumbler, add four ounces of sparkling water and stir carefully until it blends. Add a few ice cubes. You can also add a few more blueberries to garnish the mocktail. Enjoy! (It may sound weird, the rosemary in particular, but it's really good, you know!)**

 **And yes, "The Protein Song." I've been dying to use it for ages! The idea alone is ridiculously good, but the song's even better! I guess you know where I found this, do you? Do you?**

 **Well, let's find out!**

 **And please, don't call me out on the chemical details! That was just me abusing Wikipedia. I have no clue if everything was correct. If it wasn't, please tell me about my screw-ups, so that I may rectify them. Thanks in advance!**

 **Billy's constant singing, that's just me in a nutshell. I'm the guy who's always whistling, singing, or humming along to a song that only I can hear, and I usually don't even realize that I do. Until my wife (at home) or one of my customers (at work) asks me about the song. I do it always and during everything I do, even while writing.** ** _Particularly_** **while writing. (Right now, it's "To Valhalla!" an epic instrumental by Antti Martikainen, belonging to a genre he calls "Viking Battle Music." You can find it on YouTube, so check it out! Awesome stuff!)**

 **Alright, that's it for today! Thank you for reading, for sticking with me! And feel free to let me know what you think of this.**

 **And brace yourself, the fun's about to begin …**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	17. Chapter 17 - Fight!

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **So, this is it! Almost all pieces are in place, the game can finally begin! I sincerely hope you're ready!**

 **And, "Oh Happy Day!" This story made it to the ZNN, courtesy of my dear friend, DrummerMax64!**

 **And I haven't even started yet!**

 **Many thanks to you, Drummer! Once again, you prove to be one of my favorite mammals!**

 **These are the current stats: Views have crept up to more than 22,900, I received 173 reviews, 136 people declared this story to be one of their favorites, and 213 people want to be alerted when I release a new chapter. Thanks a lot for your persistent support!**

 **I also need to thank GhostWolf88, one anonymous guest, Dirtkid123, Combat Engineer, J Shute Norway, HawkTooth, niraD, and, of course, DrummerMax64, for sending me their reviews.**

 **Nobody really called out "The Protein Song" I used in the last chapter, but several guys mentioned it in their reviews, talking about it as if they knew where I had found it, so I guess hiding it anymore makes little sense. I found it, of course, in the hilarious Citadel DLC of Mass Effect 3! Mordin Solus at his very best! I couldn't stop laughing for hours! And since I liked it so much, I somehow had to make it mine! (In case you're interested in singing it, the melody was taken from the old U.S. marching song "John Brown's Body," which in turn was used countless other times - I got to know it as a child of about six years of age, when my choir sang "Glory Glory Hallelujah." Albeit with German lyrics I'd rather not give here - they were truly and embarrassingly awkward.)**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Seventeen

 **Fight!**

 _Rising up to the challenge of our rival._

Survivor: "Eye of the Tiger" (Written by Frankie Sullivan and Jim Peterik, from the album "Eye of the Tiger," Scotti Bros., 1982)

* * *

"Officer MacIntyre, Chief, reporting as ordered!"

Adrian Bogo had to fight his hardest to hide his grin. He was used to being greeted and saluted by his subordinates, but it still sounded special whenever Rocky MacIntyre did it.

Despite the fact that his term of service with the Nagerian Armed Forces had long since been a thing of the past, despite the fact that he had spent several years working as an enforcer on the wrong side of the law, despite the fact that he had spent the last three months among workmates who were much more lenient with rules and regulations, MacIntyre still looked and sounded like a soldier when talking to his superior officer - crisp, correct, efficient.

Not that Bogo minded. He rather enjoyed it. And liked to respond in kind.

"At ease, Officer! Good morning. Take a seat!"

"Thank you, sir." MacIntyre jumped into the chair in front of Bogo's desk, looking at him expectantly.

"First, how do you do?"

MacIntyre raised an eyebrow. "You asked me to come here, just to find out how I am, sir?"

Bogo allowed himself a small smile. "Of course I didn't, but this is actually the first time I get to talk to you in private since you joined us. Life as a police officer agrees with you?"

"It does, sir. Right now, my life couldn't be better."

"Really?"

MacIntyre shrugged. "As you know, when you are a fox, life can be quite rough. This actually is the first time in my entire life that I'm treated with kindness and respect. Not something I'm used to. And it's great, sir."

"No harassment? No snide remarks?"

"If there was, it didn't register with me, sir. I would certainly have told you about it otherwise, Chief." He put on a smile. "Actually, I like to think that most officers on the roster consider me their friend by now."

"Glad to hear it." He made a pause. "As you know, there were some reservations over your application, but given your track record, I guess all the detractors have probably shut up by now."

"I hope so, sir."

"Your track record's actually the reason why I asked you to come here. Up until now, you have always gone on patrol duty with a seasoned officer. How would you feel about leading a patrol yourself, teaming up with a new recruit?"

MacIntyre made a frown. "Pardon me, Chief, but don't you usually let officers lead patrol teams only after they've been on the force for at least half a year?"

"You're right, that has been my _modus operandi_ so far, but it has never been a rule. You have proven that you have what it takes. You may only have a few months of service under your belt, but in many regards, you are much more experienced than our most seasoned officers. Your track record so far is immaculate, so I think you will do fine. Objections?"

MacIntyre shook his head. "None, sir. It was just a surprise. And it is an honor, sir."

"An honor you have earned."

"Thank you, sir. May I ask who the recruit is?"

"Of course. Her name's Isabella Hefner."

"Izzy?" Rocky made a face.

Upon seeing this, Bogo frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Well, uhm," MacIntyre hesitated visibly.

"Permission to speak, MacIntyre!"

MacIntyre took a deep breath. "I don't think she holds foxes in high esteem, sir."

"Really?" Bogo looked down at the files lying on his desk. "There was nothing indicating something like that in her file."

"I know, sir. To everyone, she was just the model cadet. But … let's just call it a hunch."

"A hunch?"

"Yes, sir. And since it's a hunch, I'm afraid I can't elaborate."

Bogo leaned back, pondering. "You are aware of the fact that this sounds a bit like paranoia, aren't you?"

Rocky sighed. "Yes, maybe it is. Maybe it's just me, maybe I'm seeing things that aren't there. Still, she has given me such a wide berth, I doubt that it is just me. She got along fine with everyone, she didn't even try to get along fine with me. Even some of our fellow cadets noticed this."

"I see." Bogo picked up one of the files, browsing through it. "You do know that she's an old friend of Judy Hopps? At least it says so in this file."

"I know. She kept telling everyone about it, about how Judy made her realize that law enforcement could be the way to go for her, too. What an inspiration her old friend was to rabbits like herself, and so on and so forth."

"Seeing that she's Hopps's friend, she is bound to know about just how close Hopps is to Wilde."

"Yeah, she sure knows about WildeHopps, but I don't think she knows all the details. When Nick and Judy mated, she already was at the ZPA, and I don't think Judy gave her a phone call just to tell her that she mated with a fox."

"Probably not. So far, they've been doing a great job trying to keep it under wraps." He looked at MacIntyre. "So you think that she doesn't like foxes, despite the fact that her friend is best friends with one?"

"I do, yes."

Bogo put the file back on his desk. "Do you still think you can team up with her?"

"With all due respect, sir, but isn't that your call to make?"

"Of course it is, but I have learned the hard way that when you give an order to subordinates, it is much better to be in sync with them. The results are much better. Forcing someone to do something they don't want to do hardly yields any good results, and it often creates quite a lot of bad blood." Upon MacIntyre's stare, he added: "Just ask Hopps and Delgato about the time I made them team up for the first time."

"Uhm, I know, sir. They already told me."

"Even Delgato? He isn't particularly proud of having followed my suggestions."

"He called it a cautionary tale."

"That it is, to me as well. One of my more glaring mistakes. But at least I like to think I learned my lesson." He made a pause. "Should I assign you a different partner?"

MacIntyre shook his head. "That won't be necessary, sir. Maybe it's just me overreacting here. I've had way too many bad experiences in the past, maybe I've really become paranoid. Maybe I'm really seeing things. Maybe we'll get along fine, now that she needs to spend time in close quarters with me. So, of course, I'll do whatever you tell me to do, Chief."

"Good. Then it's final." He leaned forward, fixing his stare on MacIntyre. "But if she's really trying to give you a wide berth, if she's really that hard to get along with, I'd like you to tell me about it. You don't need to make it official, you don't need to write it down in your report, you just need to tell me, and I'll deal with the subject matter personally. If she really can't get along with foxes, her attitude may need an adjustment. And that is a matter for the boss."

"I hope that won't be necessary, sir."

"So do I. Any questions?"

"None, sir."

"Good. That'll be … No, I just remembered! Make sure to tell Hefner about our special arrangement, Rocky."

Upon hearing Bogo address him with his first name, MacIntyre frowned. "Sir?"

"Regarding your old friend and his, ahem …"

MacIntyre's eyes widened. "Of course! You can count on me to tell her, Chief!"

Bogo grinned. MacIntyre obviously didn't dare to call him by his first name, too, unlike most other officers at Precinct One would have done at this point. "You know, Rocky, when we're between ourselves and talking about things which are, strictly speaking, not relevant for duty, it's not the Chief talking to you."

MacIntyre looked at him, a puzzled expression on his face. "But you _are_ the Chief, sir."

"Not in this case. Adrian Bogo promised everyone a free flight over Zootopia, _not_ the Chief of Police."

MacIntyre just stared at him, then he nodded, slowly and reluctantly. "I'll make sure she knows about the arrangement, Adrian."

Bogo nodded. "Excellent!"

MacIntyre made a face. "I have the distinct feeling that Izzy won't approve of Judy's choices."

Bogo shrugged. "I couldn't care less, as long as she keeps it under wraps."

"You can bet I'll tell her that, Adrian!"

"I know." He straightened himself in his chair, and so did MacIntyre. "That'll be all, MacIntyre. Dismissed!"

"Sir!" MacIntyre jumped down from his chair, saluted, turned on his heel and left the room. The door had hardly closed behind him when Bogo heard him mutter: "I have a bad feeling about this."

Bogo frowned. That sure didn't sound good!

* * *

Of all the possible mammals, of course it just had to be a fox.

And not just any fox. _That_ fox!

The one that everyone had admired.

Everyone but her.

When Izzy had enrolled with the ZPA, she had thought that she would finally be shot of foxes. But of course, one of the first mammals she had met had been a fox, an arctic fox, to be precise, only slightly taller than she was.

At first glance, Rocky MacIntyre had looked completely harmless. In their class, he had been an oddball - the only cadet not born in Zootopia or the surrounding burrows, one of only a select few mammals who had had an occupation before joining the ZPA, and the oldest cadet by some ten years. Nobody had known whether it had been his age and experience, whether it had been his military upbringing, whether it had been because he was from Nageria, but it had been an undeniable fact that he had just been very, very different.

For one, he had never displayed any sort of nervousness regarding the tasks they had had to deal with. It simply hadn't mattered what they had been told to do, he had always tackled the tasks with supreme calmness, with utter confidence, with complete composure.

His first sparring match with the "Enormous Criminal" had been a perfect example. The basic premise of it had become obvious very quickly: Their instructor, a massive rhino, well versed in the martial arts and with tons of fighting experience under his belt, had been waiting for them inside the ring to simply deliver a beating. And he had always managed to do so, regardless of whether the cadet had been a true newbie to the fighting business or an experienced grappler. The only idea behind this had been to present the cadets with a situation they were quite unlikely to win, to make them humble, to show them just how much they still had to learn. Nobody had ever managed to stand their ground in that first encounter, including Izzy. Her inner ear had troubled her for days afterwards.

And then MacIntyre had entered the squared circle. Only to simply stand there, waiting for the rhino to make the first move. Unmoving, unyielding, completely calm, perfectly composed.

The picture of harmless innocence.

And then he had beat the living daylights out of the rhino. Just like that. He had been completely calm, perfectly composed, and utterly devastating.

The rhino hadn't been able to touch him, not even once.

Nobody witnessing the event had been able to believe their eyes.

A tiny arctic fox had beaten a gigantic rhino with his bare paws, without even using his claws and fangs, and he had made it look frighteningly easy.

That encounter had pretty much set the tone. He had proceeded to defeat every cadet he had been sparring with, and with outrageous ease at that, and even the most seasoned instructors hadn't been able to take him down. He had just defeated them as they had come, with no problems whatsoever.

It had been the same with all other tests. Regardless of the subject at paw, he had finished each and every one of them with top grades, outperforming everyone else. Of course, his military background had made certain tasks easy for him, yet even in those subjects he cannot have had any experience in, like Zootopian police laws and regulations, he had soon excelled.

That alone had earned him the respect of most other cadets, in some cases even adoration.

And then he had begun to help other cadets improve in their craft. He had tutored them to become better fighters, he had hit the books with them, he had showed them what it took to become a dedicated police officer, focused, determined, and if the need arose, utterly destructive.

After little more than four weeks, most other cadets had treated him like he had been their admired superior. After learning that he had been a Sergeant with the Nagerian Armed Forces, some cadets, and even some of the instructors, had started calling him "Sergeant MacIntyre." A nickname that he had rejected as being "daft."

And so had Izzy herself.

She was honest enough with herself to know that a huge part of her dislike for the fox was pure jealousy. He was so much better than she was, and in so many regards, that every time her gaze had fallen upon him, intense envy had taken her in a tight grip and not let go of her until she had lost sight of him.

The other part of her dislike was, of course, due to the fact that he was a fox.

And she mistrusted foxes on principle.

Of course she didn't believe the nonsense the rabbit elders at Bunnyburrow had spouted. Of course it was a ridiculous idea that foxes were red because they were made by the devil (which wouldn't have counted in his case anyway, seeing that he was an arctic fox). Of course God hadn't had a bad day when he had created foxes. Of course lending money to a fox wasn't the fastest way to lose money. These and other sentences were little more than speciesist slander, uttered by narrow-minded mammals unwilling to acknowledge that there was greatness in other mammals, too.

Izzy had reasons for her mistrust towards foxes, and as far as she was concerned, those were good, valid reasons.

She had yet to meet a fox whom she could fully trust.

Even Nick Wilde, despite his undeniable achievements as a police officer, was known to have had a checkered past. The same could have been said about MacIntyre, who had admitted to something very similar himself, calling himself a mammal who had spent a sizeable portion of his life on the wrong side of the law. He had never elaborated, but considering his fighting prowess, the guess that he had been an enforcer once hadn't been all that difficult. He had even alluded to the fact, claiming to have put a lot of mammals in hospital.

Everybody had believed it, including Izzy.

But nobody had cared. Except for Izzy.

And now she would spend most of the day in close compartments with him.

Not an idea she particularly cherished.

But MacIntyre didn't seem to be entirely comfortable with the situation himself. After having been assigned to team up with her, he had greeted her in his usual, very formal manner, but apart from that, he hadn't uttered one single word while they had been walking to the parking lot together.

In fact, when he called the dispatcher to announce their readiness for departure, it was the first time she had heard him talk since he had greeted her.

"Dispatch, this is Patrol Car One-13, Officer MacIntyre reporting in. Officer Hefner and I are ready to assume patrol. Over!"

" _Acknowledged, One-13! Have fun out there, Rocky! Over!_ "

MacIntyre grinned. "Thanks, Ben! 13 out!" He released the button and looked at Izzy. "Ready to make the world a better place?"

Izzy returned his look with a frown. "Is this some sort of trick question?"

MacIntyre shrugged. "It's just the usual way at Precinct One to ask your partner if they're ready. Your old friend actually came up with it."

"My friend? Judy?"

"Yes. As far as I know, she was the first one to say it, and slowly, but surely, others caught on. Nowadays, virtually everybody says it." He gave her a smile. "Has a nice ring to it, hasn't it?"

"Judy's idealism has caught on, I see."

MacIntyre's smile faded. "You sound like you disagree."

"I don't think we can make the world a better place. The world's broken, and you can't fix it all by your lonesome."

"But isn't that why you became a police officer? To make the world a better place? Maybe not the entire world, but at least the tiny corner of it that you are in. Don't you think that's what we should aim for?"

She nodded slowly. "Okay, if you put it that way … Yes, I'm ready!"

"Fine." He started the cruiser's engine, and it came to life with a throaty rumble. MacIntyre steered the massive car towards the exit of the parking lot to begin their commute to their assigned patrol area. And to Izzy's surprise, he had no difficulties doing so.

Seeing her examine the interior of the cruiser, MacIntyre said: "This actually is Judy's old patrol car."

Izzy looked around, too. Now she understood why the humongous car had an interior suited for a rabbit. "It is?"

"Yup. It's the only one outfitted with systems to support small mammals like ourselves. It was tailor-made for guys like us."

"Guys like us?" She made a pause. "You may be small like me, but you're not like me."

MacIntyre grinned. "That's obvious."

Izzy nodded. At least he was willing to acknowledge it. _Good for him_. "You are not even close to being like me."

In less then a split second, MacIntyre's face became serious. "And in which way, exactly, am I different?"

She looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"What makes me different from you?"

"Are you kidding? You are a predator, a meat-eater, a …"

"Sorry, but I'm an omnivore."

"You're a what?"

"An omnivore. Like all foxes are. I actually employ the seafood diet."

"Seafood?"

"Yeah. I see food, I eat it." He grinned. "I don't really care whether it's meat or fruits or vegetables. I can eat pretty much everything. Although I admit that I do need to eat meat every now and then."

"Which makes you a predator."

He shook his head. "Why do all those mammals still use this term? Predator! That sounds like we need to hunt for food. The only hunting I do is in the supermarket, and my quarry is some frozen food, a bowl of crickets every now and then, and a few citrus fruits that I can squeeze the juice out of. Oh, and of course some ground coffee. I don't consider myself a predator. I may be a carnivore, but not a predator."

"Now you're quibbling!"

"Am I? Isn't that what this whole nonsensical discussion is all about? Why so many _prey mammals_ ," he highlighted the words with air quotes, "fear guys like me? They call us predators, insinuating that we want to hunt them down, right? Isn't that what all these idiots claim?" He made a pause. "Judy's brother Billy prefers the terms 'herbivore' and 'carnivore,' and he should know. His job's all about searching for food alternatives for carnivores, for guys like me, so we can lead a vegetarian life and no longer scare the bejesus out of herbivores like you."

"You know Billy?"

"Of course I do! He lives here, too, after all. With Nick and Judy, I might add."

"With Nick and Judy? Hang on, she lives alone, somewhere here in Savanna Central."

"Sorry, but you're a bit behind the time. Judy moved in with Nick some three months ago. Nick owns a house which is way too big for him. Right now, he's in the middle of turning it into a living community. There are two bunnies and two foxes living there at the moment, Judy, Billy, KayDee, and Nick."

"Who's KayDee?"

"An old friend of Nick and me."

"Nick and you? You're friends?"

MacIntyre smiled. "Best of friends actually. I've known him for some ten years, and over time, he became like a brother to me. Through him, I got to know Judy and Billy. And they've also honored me by calling me their friend." He grinned. "And that's something we have in common."

Izzy snorted. "Probably the only thing."

"Sorry, but I tend to disagree."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on! We're both cops, we're both not from Zootopia, we're both considered freaks by our peers at …"

"I'm not a freak!"

"You're not? So there are more bunny cops like you? So you are not a trailblazer?" He chuckled. "Face it, lass, we _are_ freaks! Foxes and bunnies, not the kinds of mammals you'd typically find in law enforcement. That's another thing we have in common." He made a pause. "You may not like it all that much, but apart from our different physiologies, which are undisputed, we are very much alike. We have to fight much harder to achieve what all those large mammals are served on a platter. We have to play harder and faster to reach the same goals. But we made it. Despite all the detractors, we made it."

She snorted again. "Yeah, but you got everything handed to you! Everybody at the ZPA loved you!"

His smile faded. "I sure had an easier time at the ZPA than you had, but that's only because I had to fight my uphill battle more than ten years ago. Which makes me sort of an expert when it comes to dealing with great challenges today. The only true advantage I have over you is tons of experience, and even that's no surprise, seeing that I will turn 36 next month, and you are, what, 24?"

"25."

"So, the typical CV, high school, college, ZPA, right?"

"Something like that, yes."

"You followed Judy's lead to the T, didn't you?"

"I did. I even took the same courses she had taken four years earlier."

He shrugged. "As long as it works. My life wasn't quite as straight as yours. But I learned a lot. Stuff I can put to good use today. That's the only advantage I have over you. And even that will fade with time, with you gaining experience."

He stopped the cruiser at a traffic light. "Yes, I'm a fox, yes, you're a bunny, but that's about the only true difference I can make out between the two of us. I'm sure the Chief made us team up specifically because we are so well matched in terms of size, no doubt about that. This cruiser has been catching dust in the parking lot for more than four months, because all other officers are way too big to be able to use it. Now that we're here, it can be put to good use again. And that's all there is to it. So," he looked at her and smiled, "I suggest you get used to the idea of me being around you. The way I see it, we're going to spend a lot of time together."

"As long as nobody asks me to become your friend," Izzy said automatically, then she froze.

 _Did I really just say this?_

The lights turned green, and MacIntyre accelerated again. To her surprise, he chuckled while doing so. "Nobody did, nobody will. I'm not asking you to be my friend. And to be honest, I couldn't care less if you like foxes or not."

She just stared at him. He continued: "Isn't that why you gave me such a wide berth, back at the ZPA? Because you don't trust foxes?"

She still found herself unable to say anything. He sighed. "It's okay, you can just admit it, I know it anyway. And I don't care, just as long as you don't hold my very existence against me."

"No," she said slowly, "I don't trust foxes. And I have some very good reasons to do so."

"Those being?"

She stared at him in disbelief. "Don't tell me you are interested in knowing why I don't trust guys like you!"

"Of course I am! How else can I learn what to avoid?"

"What to avoid?"

"Is it the fangs? Is it the claws? Is it just the usual 'foxes are untrustworthy' spiel that so many mammals believe in? What is it?"

She sighed. "Let's just say foxes haven't exactly been kind to me in the past."

His face became stern. "You were attacked by a fox?"

"By two foxes actually. Has Judy ever mentioned the name Gideon Grey?"

"The pastry chef? Of course! I even met him two weeks ago. Has a shop in Savanna Central. We actually drove past it one minute ago. That's where I met him."

"Well, _I_ met him when I was about seven. He and his no-goodnik brother Jether put me into a dumpster and closed the lid. The thing was so big and heavy, I was too small to even reach the lid, and way too weak to lift it. So I was stuck in there for more than five hours, in almost complete darkness. Judy was the one to find me, and she had to ask Billy for help to get me out of there."

"That was you?"

"Judy told you about it?"

"No, Billy did. He went to Gideon afterwards to take him to task for it. They shouted at each other, Gideon punched him, and Billy punched back, and he punched back hard. Gideon sported two black eyes afterwards."

"He did?"

"According to Gideon himself. We were in Gideon's shop when Billy told me. Gideon was also there, and according to him, Billy was taller, heavier, and stronger than he was back then."

"Gideon … was there?"

"Yes. He openly admitted to it, and he was hugely embarrassed about it. He also told me that he apologized to the mammal, but he never mentioned your name. He really did apologize, I hope."

"He did, but …" She sighed. "You can't do away with experiences like that this easily."

"I see." Now he sighed. "It's always the same. Put one bad apple in a box with fine ones, and everybody will believe the whole bunch is spoiled. That's one hell of an experience for a kit of seven years. Would certainly have scared the heck out of me as well. I'm sorry for you."

She looked at him, examining him. His features showed disgust and resignation. And it looked absolutely genuine.

If there was one thing everybody at the ZPA had always been astonished about, given the fact that he was a fox, it was how honest MacIntyre had been. He had never lied, never tried to embellish his résumé, had admitted to the grossest misdemeanors and mistakes. Everything about him, everything he had said, had always been one hundred percent genuine.

 _He really means what he says!_

He took a turn at the next street corner. "Okay, I make you this offer: Feel free to grovel about my presence as long as you like. I can take it. But know this: You are going to spend quite a lot of time by my side, whether you like it or not. That's what the Chief wants, and there's nothing we can do about it. So you better get used to it." He made a pause and looked at her, "We are a team. We are partners. At one point, you may need to trust me. Just as I may need to trust you to do the right thing."

"Of course you can trust me!"

"I hope so. You know just as well as I do, in this job, things can turn nasty very quickly. On my very first day on the force, Sergeant Delgato and I came across two guys who were dabbling in illegal gambling. One of them had a gun with him. Not a big challenge, all things considered, yet this could have turned ugly."

"What did you do?"

He grinned. "What do you think?"

"The guy ended up in hospital."

"No, he ended up behind bars. Yes, I may have put a lot of mammals in hospital over the course of the years, as you probably know quite well, but there simply was no need. Just wrestled him to the ground so I could put pawcuffs on the guy. Delgato, meanwhile, took out the other guy. And he could do so, knowing that I would be able to deal with the armed guy. Just as I knew he'd be able to deal with the other guy. That's what trust is all about. Something like this might very well happen to the two of us, too. Sometimes you find yourself in the unfortunate position of having to rely on your partner for your safety and well-being. Sometimes you need to look out for your partner. Always keep that in mind."

"You're asking me to trust you."

"I do."

"You'd be the first fox I met whom I could trust."

He smiled. "Nothing against you, but seeing that you're from Bunnyburrow, you can't have met all that many foxes. Just the Greys, right?"

She hesitated before finally relenting the point. "Yes."

"And those are hardly the perfect role models. Or at least, they weren't back then. Both seem to be on the right track nowadays." He sighed again. "I won't pretend that there are no bad foxes out there. Of course there are a lot of foxes who put our whole species in discredit. But there also are a lot of nice ones, even those with a somewhat shady past. If you are a fox, the number of alternatives you are presented with is quite small. To us, turning to a life of crime often is the only one. Which only worsens the problem." He made a pause. "I admit that I was a criminal once, too. But that's the past. I'm a cop now, I'm your partner, and I want to ask you to trust me. At the least, I'm asking you to give me the benefit of the doubt."

She examined him again. He had said all those things very matter-of-factly. In the very same, calm, honest manner he had been known for at the ZPA.

"Speaking of trust," he suddenly said, "there's something I need to tell you, and I need to trust you to keep this to yourself. Something off the record."

"Off the record?"

"Yes."

"Which is what?"

"I told you that Judy moved in with Nick, right? Well, that's not … the whole story."

"Huh?"

MacIntyre hesitated, then said, very quickly: "Judy and Nick have mated for life."

Izzy's jaw dropped. " _What?_ "

"You heard me. Judy and Nick have mated for life. Not only do they live together, they are, for all intents and purposes, a couple."

"But … how …?"

MacIntyre shrugged. "You need to ask Judy. I'm not telling."

"But … the laws …"

"See, and therein lies the problem. Everybody at the ZPD knows, because the Chief told everybody. But he did it off the record, just as I'm talking to you off the record now. Because is this leaks out, both Judy and Nick will lose their jobs. And may even end up in jail. As you know very well."

"A bunny … and a fox?"

"Yup. But rest assured, I've seen stranger. Nick claims he once met a moose who was dating an otter. He always adds that if you've seen something like that, you've seen it all."

"A moose … and an otter?"

"You heard me. No idea how this could even work."

Izzy stared at him, trying her hardest to wrap her head around the fact that Judy, the smart, ambitious girl she had gotten to know during childhood, her idol, her role model, had decided to mate with a fox of all mammals. "This is not a joke?"

"Certainly not. You know Judy's scent, right? Just pay Nick a visit and take a whiff. Should tell you the whole story."

"I can't believe it."

"To be honest, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it either. But as far as I can tell, they seem to be the perfect match."

"So you're okay with it?"

He made a frown. "Of course I am. Why shouldn't I be? Nick's my best mate, and if he's happy, I'm happy. And Judy seems to make him happy, and vice versa. You are not okay with it."

With a start, Izzy realized that this hadn't been a question, but a statement. "No, I don't think I am."

"That's … unfortunate."

"Why? I think it's wrong."

"Why? Just because Nick's a fox?"

Izzy took a deep breath. "No, I don't think you should find mates outside your own species. This has nothing to do with Nick being a fox."

"Ah. Well, Judy seems to think it's okay. And so does Nick. And for the record, everybody at the ZPD agrees."

"What? Really? Everybody?"

"As far as I can tell. I mean, I cannot look into other people's heads, obviously, but so far, nobody has expressed any sort of resentment towards them." He shot Izzy a look. "And once you get to know Nick, you'll know why."

"What do you mean?"

"Like I said, perfect match." He made a pause. "Listen, you don't need to like this, but please, can you refrain from telling anyone outside the ZPD?"

"Excuse me?"

"Can you refrain from telling anyone outside the ZPD? Because if this leaks out, the ZPD will lose two outstanding cops. Nobody wants that, particularly not Bogo. And that's why I'm going to tell you now what he promised everyone if they decide that the public should know about this."

"Let me guess, an ass-whooping?"

MacIntyre smiled. "Something like that. As far as I know, he said that those mammal will feel a big hoof connecting with their rumps at tremendous force and velocity. And the next thing they'll feel, following a long free flight over Zootopia, is a very hard impact with the ground, somewhere outside the city limits. At least, that's what Delgato told me."

"He certainly looks like he could do it."

MacIntyre chuckled. "Maybe to guys like you and me, but I don't think he'll be able to do this to an elephant."

"Not without breaking his leg."

He looked at her. "So, can you do it?"

"You mean, can I keep quiet about it?" She shrugged. "Do I have a choice?"

"The way I see it, no, you don't."

"Okay, then I guess I need to keep my mouth shut."

"Good."

He fell silent, which gave her the opportunity to ponder on what she had just heard.

A bunny and a fox.

True, she had heard several stories about mammals finding mates outside their own species. She just had never believed this could encompass one of her closest friends.

Prey and predator.

This one she had certainly never heard before. But if MacIntyre was to be believed, it wasn't all that uncommon. And seeing that he had spent a sizeable part of his life amongst criminals and outcasts, she tended to believe him.

Besides, he had been nothing but honest so far.

Her old friend Judy.

What should she tell her, the next time they would meet? Izzy had no idea.

The mere idea of her dating a fox seemed weird. Completely preposterous.

Then again …

It was common knowledge that Judy and Nick were an outstanding team of police officers. During the time Izzy had spent at the ZPA, their antics, their achievements, had been mentioned as prime examples for good police work numerous times. A deep level of understanding, blind faith in the partner, complete trust …

Was it really such a surprise that the best of partners had mated?

And was she really okay with it? Not okay with it?

Izzy had no idea.

She was interrupted in her silent musing by MacIntyre, who cleared his throat. "We'll arrive at our patrol area soon. Ready to rumble?"

Izzy pulled herself together, putting on a smile. "You mean, ready to make the world a better place?"

MacIntyre let out a guffaw. "That's what I meant, yes."

"I'm ready … _partner_!"

He looked at her with a smile. "Great, _partner_!"

 _And now I'm going to team up with a fox, too._

 _Well, as long as he doesn't expect me to mate with him …_

* * *

Taking a deep drag on her cigarette, Carrie Fitzinger watched from a distance as two dozen of very small mammals seemed to be hell-bent on making as big a ruckus as possible.

Just a normal day at the Maria Montessowri Kindergarten in Savanna Central.

"You can tell that a high pressure system is approaching," Paula Elkwood, one of her co-workers, said with a grin.

"And why is that?"

"The kits are extraordinarily rambunctious today, don't you agree?"

Fitzinger smiled. "It certainly seems that way. As long as they don't burn the playground down, I'm good."

"I don't think they will, unless you give one of them your cigarette lighter."

"As if I ever would!" She took another drag, then she extinguished the cigarette in the ash tray mounted on a post near the entrance of the kindergarten's playground. "Come on, let's …"

She suddenly felt a sting on her neck, below her ear.

"Ow!"

"What's wrong?" Elkwood asked.

"Seems like I was stung by a bee."

"Really? Let me have a look." Elkwood approached her.

That was when the burning began.

It felt as if someone had poured molten steel into her veins. With a scream of pain, Fitzinger collapsed to the ground, twitching, as wave upon wave of searing pain and heat consumed her whole body.

She couldn't prevent her claws from showing.

She couldn't prevent to bare her fangs.

Behind her closed eyes, a red mist descended.

A growl escaped her throat, vicious, feral.

Dangerous.

"Carrie?" Elkwood said, frozen to the spot, unsure of what she should do.

Her indecisiveness became her downfall.

* * *

"So, when's the next album going to be released?" Bogo was leaning against the receptionist's desk in what looked like a surprisingly casual manner.

"No idea, Adrian."

Bogo snorted. "Come on, Ben! You must be her biggest fan in the whole western hemisphere, yet you claim you don't know?"

Clawhauser grinned. Ever since learning that they both shared a love for Gazelle, the Chief had become much more casual with him, a fact that Clawhauser enjoyed immensely. "Am I her biggest fan in the western hemisphere? I know a certain buffalo who could challenge me for that title."

Bogo returned the grin. "And maybe a certain bunny gives the two of us a run for our money. Seriously, you don't know?"

"In two months at the earliest. That's all I know."

Bogo groaned. "What shall I do with my life until then?"

Clawhauser chuckled. "I don't know. Listen to her old ones?"

"That's probably what I end up …"

He was interrupted by the phone ringing. Frowning, Clawhauser picked up the receiver. "ZPD Precinct One, my name is Benjamin Clawhauser. How …"

He was interrupted by a mammal screaming so loudly that even Bogo was able to hear it, although he wasn't able to make out the words.

And Clawhauser turned pale under his fur.

"Yes, ma'am! I understand. Police officers are on their way! Just keep your distance and do not …" The other mammal shouted again. "Yes, I understand! There's nothing you can do! Just keep your distance! We'll take care of it, ma'am!" He put down the receiver again.

"What's wrong?" Bogo asked.

Instead of answering, Clawhauser lunged for the microphone, pressing the button. "Attention! All units in Savanna Central! We have reports of a 10-91 at the Maria Montessowri Kindergarten! Cheetah gone savage! I repeat, cheetah gone savage! All units, please respond! Over!"

"A 10-91," Bogo echoed, flabbergasted.

The speaker came to life. " _This is One-13! We're in the neighborhood and 10-17! Over!_ "

"10-4, 13! Just be careful, Rocky! We have reports of several 10-39, with cubs among them! Over!"

The fox hissed. " _ETA is four minutes! You better send reinforcements! And ambulances! Over!_ "

"Acknowledged. Dispatch out!"

As soon as Clawhauser had let go of the button, the speaker crackled again, and the voice of Sergeant Delgato erupted from it. " _Dispatch, this is One-17. We heard what's going on and are 10-17 as well. ETA about … twelve minutes, maybe more. Traffic is hell down here! Over!_ "

"Acknowledged, 17. Dispatch out!"

Clawhauser looked up at Bogo, whose face had turned even more gray than it already was. "A savage cheetah at Montessowri Kindergarten?" he said slowly.

"That's what the lady said," Clawhauser responded with a frown.

Bogo turned around in a rather brusque manner, leaving the desk behind. "I'm going there. Keep me posted, Clawhauser!"

"Aye aye, sir!" Clawhauser stared at Bogo's retreating back.

* * *

Even before Rocky and Hefner had reached their destination, it became obvious that something was seriously wrong at the kindergarten. They saw numerous children running down the sidewalks, screaming in fright. Several adults were among them, whether fleeing themselves or trying to herd them in was hard to determine.

When they finally caught a glimpse of the kindergarten's playground itself, the reason became quite obvious.

It looked like a war zone.

Several dead bodies were strewn about the playground, as were torn-off limbs. Mutilated mammals screamed for help, pain and desperation in their voices.

Wherever Rocky looked, he saw blood.

And in the middle of the playground, on all fours, a female cheetah was cowering over what might have been a deer at one point, but was now little more than an indistinguishable heap of blood, flesh, and bones.

A heap the cheetah was feasting on.

"Oh my!" Hefner whispered.

"Welcome to Zootopia!" Rocky said, killing the engine and opening the door at the same time. Jumping down, he realized that Hefner, to her credit, was close behind. At least the sight hadn't shocked her into inactivity.

Wouldn't have been the first time he saw mammals go into shock when coming upon scenes of carnage.

He activated his walkie-talkie. "Dispatch, MacIntyre here. We've arrived. Female cheetah, quite obviously savage. I count at least seven dead mammals and some fifteen injured ones. Over!"

" _10-4, Rocky!_ " Clawhauser said immediately. " _Brian and Freddie are on their way. ETA some eight minutes at the earliest. More reinforcements are en route, and so are several ambulances. Over!_ "

"Acknowledged! MacIntyre out!" He deactivated the connection and looked at Hefner. "Let's take her down!"

Hefner had already drown her tranq gun. To his surprise, her paw wasn't trembling. "I'm ready!" she announced with a steady voice.

Readying his gun as well, they approached the cheetah slowly, cautiously. There was no cover, nothing to hide behind. Just several injured mammals, a savage cheetah, and two tiny mammals approaching her, tranq guns at the ready.

 _It looks just like Afurnistan!_

On their quest to hunt down a dangerous terrorist, Rocky's company had been ordered to search several small, remote villages, invariably situated high up in mountainous terrain. Every single one of his comrades had of course been well-versed im military operations in urban terrain, but that simply hadn't been enough of a preparation.

Not in an environment in which every rock seemed to pose a threat. Not in a village where death lurked behind every window, every door, every wall.

They had been shot at by tiny kits, barely old and big enough to operate a rifle. They had been shot at by old crocks, barely strong enough to even lift a rifle. Trip mines had been a constant threat. Some crazy goat with a rocket launcher had blown up their transport, with three of his comrades still being inside.

Wherever they had gone, death and destruction had never been far behind.

He had lost seventeen comrades in less than three days.

Without finding hide nor hair of the terrorist.

Whenever they had left a village behind after combing through it, the scene had looked eerily similar to what he was seeing now.

 _This is bad!_

Without being ordered, Hefner took a few steps to the side, to prevent the cheetah from attacking both of them at the same time. Raising her tranq gun, she shouted: "I have a clear shot at the mammal!"

"Take it!" he responded, raising his own gun.

A hiss of quickly released air, a satisfying thud …

"Good shot!" he shouted. And it had been. The dart had hit the cheetah perfectly in her chest, right behind her right arm, just below the scapula. Now they only needed to wait for the sedative to do its job.

Only that it didn't.

Instead, the cheetah wheeled around, fixing her stare on a disbelieving Hefner.

The cheetah let loose with a ferocious growl.

And made for Hefner as if shot from a catapult.

Hefner just stood there, unmoving, obviously not believing what she had just seen.

Rocky couldn't believe it either.

It had been a perfect hit! The cheetah should have collapsed on the spot.

Instead, she was now going after the bunny that had attacked her, running on all fours.

And she did so at breathtaking speed.

With a start, Rocky realized that the life of his partner was in immediate danger. The events had obviously frozen Hefner in shock.

It was up to him to safe her.

Dropping his gun, he started to run towards Hefner, too. Upon realizing that he wouldn't be fast enough to reach her before the cheetah did, he dropped on all fours as well, running as fast as his short legs allowed for.

 _I'm not gonna make it! I'm not gonna make it! I'm not …_

With one last effort, he jumped up and collided with the cheetah in mid-air, just as the savage mammal was about to bury her fangs in Hefner's throat. Being that much smaller, the impact didn't rattle the cheetah, but it was enough to change her trajectory.

Her claws missed Hefner by a fraction of an inch.

"RUN!" he screamed.

He felt a paw connect with his chest, throwing him up in the air and away from the cheetah. He turned around in mid-air, straightened himself, started looking for his opponent.

And was staring into the eyes of death.

The cheetah was cowering, ready to pounce, some ten feet away from the spot where he finally landed on his paws. Her pupils had been reduced to tiny slits, her fangs were bared, and she growled menacingly. Staring at Rocky. Stalking him.

 _Cheetah._ Acinonyx jubatus. _Large mammal. Fastest mammal on dry land. Excellent acceleration, tremendous top speed, able to change direction very quickly, even at full speed. Only able to cover short distances at full speed, due to exhaustion, but stamina is regained quite quickly. Very good eyesight, the other senses are average. Claws are semi-retractable, excellent for gaining traction on loose terrain, but less suited for tearing, due to being rather blunt. Dewclaws on the front paws, however, can be dangerous weapon and need to be watched at all times. Skull is quite small, considering the mammal's size, as is the mouth, therefore the bite isn't the most effective. Still, both claws and fangs should never be underestimated. Due to sheer speed, a cheetah trained in martial arts is a serious threat._

 _Strengths: Running speed, reflexes, claws, particularly the dewclaws, fangs._

 _Weak spots: Legs, flanks, throat, testicles._

 _This particular mammal … slightly overweight, visibly untrained, not …_

The cheetah pounced.

In the blink of an eye, she had reached Rocky's position. He stepped to the side at the last possible moment, raising his paw.

And with the unerring precision of the skilled fighter, his paw connected with the cheetah's chin. Combined with the cheetah's speed, the punch was absolutely devastating. To his grim satisfaction, Rocky heard a sickening breaking sound.

Off-balance, the cheetah fell to the ground, going head over heels, landing on her paws again. Turning around, she stared at Rocky again, ready to pounce again. With her jaw broken, her head looked oddly deformed, but no less dangerous.

If anything, she looked even more threatening than before.

Rocky stared at her in astonishment.

 _Bloody hell! How can she still be standing with a broken jaw? She should be down, nursing her …_

The cheetah attacked him again.

Rocky waited half a second before dropping to the ground. As soon as the cheetah had reached him, he kicked up. Hard. Catching her in her stomach, the cheetah gave a yelp of pain and was lifted off her paws. She flipped over again …

And was back on her paws in an instant, stalking him.

Rocky couldn't believe what he was seeing.

 _That kick should have taken her out! I have kicked lions into oblivion with …_

Again, the cheetah pounced.

And again, Rocky took a step to the side …

A searing pain shot through his left shoulder. He felt himself being lifted up in the air, thrown back a few feet, before landing on his back.

And looked right at the cheetah's fangs, lounging for his throat.

He kicked up as hard as he was able to, catching the cheetah's rib cage, and heard rather than felt a few ribs breaking on impact.

The kick catapulted the cheetah off of him. She gave a hiss of pain before landing on her back next to him. Rocky scrambled to his paws, trying to increase the distance to the cheetah, trying to prepare for the next attack.

And when turning around again, the cheetah was already back on her four paws, ready to strike.

 _This isn't normal!_

He knew he had broken her jaw. He knew he had hit her stomach hard enough to flatten a lion. He knew he had broken a few of the cheetah's ribs.

She just stared at him, growling ferociously.

 _This shouldn't be happening! I have taken down fighters much more capable than her with ease!_

 _She shouldn't still be conscious! She shouldn't still be on her paws!_

 _She is way faster, way stronger, than she should have been!_

 _Nobody with injuries like that would still be in any shape to fight!_

 _How is this possible?_

He looked down at his shoulder, seeing the uniform being torn to shreds, with half of the sleeve missing. Blood was oozing from a single cut, staining his white fur.

He tried to move his left arm. It was painful, but the damage obviously was superficial, and he found to his relief that he had full range of movement.

 _Well, I've never backed off from a challenge!_

Trying to block out the pain, he stared at the cheetah again, smiling as he did so.

"You wanna play rough? Okay! Just bring it, _bitch_!"

And Rocky MacIntyre dropped to all fours.

* * *

Some sixty feet away, a lone rabbit doe was sitting on her rump in a sandbox, breathing heavily.

 _What in the name of all that's holy has just happened?_

She knew she wasn't the best of marksmammals, yet Izzy was certain she had hit the cheetah perfectly below her shoulder blade. _Bull's eye! Perfect shot!_

But instead of being sedated instantly, the cheetah had made for her!

Attacked her!

A flurry of limbs and fur, a scream …

" _RUN!_ "

And Izzy had run, run faster than she had ever done before.

Only to trip over … something …

She turned around, searching for the offending item.

 _A blue piece of cloth … a colorful sneaker …_

If it had been physically possible for her, Izzy would have thrown up.

 _I stumbled over … a leg!_

 _Holy hay bale, what nightmare have I ended up in here?_

Staring at the torn-off leg in sheer disbelief, it took a shout to bring her back to her senses.

"WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?"

 _MacIntyre!_

She looked up in shock.

Only to get to see a truly frightening sight.

On all fours, the female cheetah had taken off …

And so had MacIntyre.

And he was on all fours as well!

The cheetah pounced.

But MacIntyre wasn't there anymore.

Jumping up in the air at the last possible moment, somersaulting over the cheetah, he lashed out with his front paws.

And with chirurgical precision, his claws hit the cheetah's back.

The cheetah howled in pain, lost her balance, flipped over.

And was back on her paws in a heartbeat.

And so was MacIntyre.

 _Why isn't he running?_

"FOR THE LAST TIME, IZZY: RUN!"

And suddenly, she understood.

He wasn't fast enough to outrun the cheetah. His only chance of survival was trying to fight her, trying to defeat her.

 _He's trying to buy me time to get to safety!_

But she found out that she wasn't able to move.

Morbid fascination kept her rooted to the spot.

The cheetah had started bleeding from several cuts on her back. Her jaw looked strangely deformed, as if it had been broken. With every breath she took, Izzy's excellent sense of hearing was able to make out a quiet gurgling sound, as if her lung had been punctured.

 _She is gravely injured._

 _Why is she still on her paws?_

 _HOW is she still on her paws?_

The cheetah attacked again.

And again, MacIntyre jumped up in the air. This time, he rotated on the spot to deliver a roundhouse kick to her face.

Her skull connected with his paw at tremendous speed.

The force of the impact threw her down to the ground, and MacIntyre was thrown into another somersault. He tucked his legs in and stretched again at precisely the right moment to hit the ground on his legs.

This time, the cheetah took longer to get back to her paws. And when she did …

 _How on earth is she still standing?_

The cheetah's face was a bloody mess. The impact had obviously broken her nose and orbital bone.

Yet it seemed she still wanted to go after MacIntyre.

Izzy looked back at the fox, only to see to her astonishment that he was in the middle of pulling the belt out of his trousers.

 _What is he doing? Does he want to whip her?_

Having pulled the belt free, he held it up at both ends, waiting for the cheetah to make her move.

He didn't need to wait long.

With two single leaps, she had covered the distance to MacIntyre.

And at exactly the right moment, he bent the belt to create a noose. The cheetah's head went right through it, the belt caught at her arms …

And MacIntyre was yanked off his paws.

He seemed to have prepared himself for that, however. In less than a second, he was sitting astride on the cheetah's back, and pulled on both ends of the belt. And it looked like he was pulling hard.

The cheetah fell down to the ground again, nearly throwing MacIntyre off, but he somehow managed to stay on her back. Now pulling with all his might, he tried to strangle the cheetah into submission.

The cheetah's eyes bulged, she hissed and spat, lounged out with her paws, but with every second, her movements became slower, weaker.

She was starting to lose consciousness.

"STAY DOWN, YOU BITCH!" MacIntyre yelled.

With one last heave, the cheetah tried to roll over, tried to throw MacIntyre off, but he kicked her in the side.

The cheetah collapsed to the ground, twitching.

And then she was perfectly still.

And MacIntyre fell off her back to the ground, breathing hard.

Again, Izzy heard the gurgling sound. But this time, it seemed to come from the fox.

The fox who had saved her life.

* * *

 **And what do you know, the horror has only just begun …**

 **Izzy Hefner's name is actually derived from Hugh Hefner of Playboy fame, but it's not because I read the Playboy - never have, as a matter of fact. Nor did I want to stress the fact that he liked to surround himself with, well,** ** _bunnies_** **. ;-) No, the species Izzy belongs to, the Lower Keys marsh rabbit,** ** _Sylvilagus palustris hefneri_** **, was really named after Hugh Hefner, because he had funded the research of James D. Lazell Jr., the man who taxed the species. The things you learn while browsing the internet …**

 **I don't know if the guys making the movie were thinking of the military leader mentioned in the Bible's Book of Judges when they gave Gideon Grey his name, but if they did, it's perfectly justifiable to name his brother after Gideon's oldest son, Jether.**

 **Carrie Fitzinger is named after Leopold Fitzinger, an Austrian zoologist who taxed the Northeast African cheetah,** ** _Acinonyx jubatus soemmeringii_** **, the species of which Carrie is a member of.**

 **Maria Montessori, that's the real name, was an Italian educator who single-handedly revolutionized the way children are taught today. My mother actually was a kindergarten teacher, studying the intricacies of Montessori's teachings to great extent. Didn't make her a good mother though …**

 **The predator/prey discussion between Rocky and Izzy is yet another point of criticism I have in regards of the movie "Zootopia." Why are all the carnivores always referred to as predators? The term itself suggests that they hunt for food, and seeing that they're civilized mammals, the only hunting they'll do will take place in a supermarket. The whole term's completely misleading, and in the world of Zootopia, even borderline speciesist. Yet everyone uses it, even those mammals who don't really think in these terms. Strange, that. I, personally, prefer the words carnivore and herbivore. Another reason why I had Billy discuss the topic with KayDee and Nick in the previous chapters.**

 **And yes, of course this will be relevant later …**

 **I hid just one quote in here, taken from the movie "Scarface." Quite easy to find, I guess.**

 **And that's it for today, or rather tonight. (It's about one am in Germany right now. I don't know why, but that's the time I'm at my most productive.) Thanks for reading, and if you could send a review my way, I'd be a happy camper!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	18. Chapter 18 - Schadenfreude

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **You ever heard of Murphy's Law? It states, in plain words, that anything that can go wrong will go wrong.**

 **Sort of sums up what is happening to me as far as this story is concerned.**

 **Sorry for the ultra-long delay in publishing this chapter, but it wasn't entirely my fault. Part of it is, the rest of it, well …**

 **The chapter itself actually was complete a mere two days after I had published the last one, and I was just about to unleash it upon the world. But then I received a review by Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps which led me to the realization that I had completely neglected a few topics in my plans for this story. So I did a bit of thinking - several weeks of it - and updated my plans accordingly. And after I was done with that, I rewrote the chapter from scratch.**

 **While this may sound like it was a chore, I was having a great time pondering over the stuff you wrote, so thanks a lot to you, Cimar, for helping me bring my story into shape! (At the end of the chapter, I'll tell you what he wrote and why it had such a massive impact on this story.) And if you have more ideas or suggestions, bring 'em on! (This also goes for each and every one of you out there! If you have suggestions for how this story could develop, feel free to tell me! If I like your ideas, I will incorporate them into this, and of course I'll also give credit where it's due.)**

 **Now, after having re-written the entire chapter - I actually was almost done -, disaster struck, and it struck hard!**

 **I have no idea how it could have happened, but a computer virus managed to sneak through my defenses, despite my best efforts to keep those defenses rock solid. This virus pretty much killed my computer, and killed it good! For several weeks, I had virtually no internet connection, so I had no means of connecting to the outside world, so sorry to all the guys out there waiting for a sign of life from yours truly. (As a matter of fact, it's still working only intermittently, and I really don't know why.)**

 **On top of that, and ultimately much worse, I also lost my word processor and had to re-install it. In the overall scheme of things, this is certainly no big deal. I had just begun to consider myself lucky, when I took a quick survey of the contents of my hard drive and found out to my dismay that I had lost almost all documents stored there, both on the computer itself as well as on the backup hard drive that was, unfortunately, connected to the computer when the virus struck. The files were still there, but they were corrupted to the point of being little more than complete garbage.**

 **Which means that all the work I had done had gone down the drain. Private correspondence, story ideas, little snippets I had written eons ago, even some small files of more than twenty years of age that I simply kept for sentimental reasons. All gone.**

 **Now, fortunately, I had also stored the majority of those files on my laptop, which wasn't affected by the virus. However, the work of the last four years was irretrievably lost.**

 **And so was this story.**

 **Well, rebuilding it was easy enough; a simple copy-and-paste job from this fanfiction site, that was it.**

 **But what I wasn't able to retrieve was the original draft of this story.**

 **At the end of the file that contains this story, I kept a rough outline of the whole plot, the plan of action, all the events, some background information, stuff like that. I simply did this because while I, as a rule, have quite a good memory for certain things, some other things I simply can't remember, like names and personal details.**

 **Guess what I had to do now?**

 **Yes, rebuild everything from scratch!**

 **I still remembered most of the stuff, but some of the finer points of this story simply eluded me. They were just as gone as the original file was.**

 **It took me almost two months to finally reach the point where I'm able to say: Yes, that's how it's going to work. That's how things are going to happen.**

 **This will be "Hammer to Fall!"**

 **And then I had to write this chapter AGAIN, for the third time!**

 **Sometimes I think some entity doesn't want me to complete this story! What the heck have I done to deserve this?**

 **Well, I guess I won't be done before the year is out! At this rate, 2019 may have come and gone by the time I'm finished with this! Especially when the mood strikes me again - and I'm afraid it will -, leading to even more plot twists and even more chapters. Oh well! (By the way, the current plan calls for substantially more than 100 (!) chapters - not exactly sure at the moment -, with God knows how many words! Like I said before, being brief is NOT my forte!)**

 **These are the current stats: This story was viewed more than 25,800 times, received 188 reviews, 147 favorites, and 235 alerts. Thank you for sticking with me! You can't believe what a fun ride this is! Well, apart from the rebuilding stuff, but … you know what I mean!**

 **A huge shout goes out to GameOnNYPD, Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps, Dirtkid123, GhostWolf88, J Shute Norway, Combat Engineer, niraD, PrincessRainbowSparkles, HawkTooth, DrummerMax64, Ryan Oxman, tweiler18, WildeHopps85, and Moonlight Melody (I don't think I deserve all that praise, but thanks nonetheless!) for sending their reviews. Thanks a lot, my friends!**

 **Another "Thank you!" a very special one indeed, goes out to HawkTooth, who has taken the effort of making pictures of both Rocky MacIntyre and Adimar Mastiff. I like them very much, so I want to share them with you. If you wanna have a look at 'em yourself, just check out his Flickr page, especially the Zootopia sketchbook you can find there. (This site, sadly, doesn't allow me to give you the hyperlink - believe me, I tried, but this site flatly refuses to accept at signs and the likes. Just search for "Hawken Carlton" on Flickr.) And if you do so, please do him the favor and leave a comment, because he likes to hear what other people think about his work.**

 **The quote from the movie "Scarface" that I hid in the last chapter was, of course, Tony Montana's infamous rant "You wanna play rough? Okay!" followed by the even more infamous line: "Say hello to my little friend!" I just love the way Al Pacino delivers the lines! And who else but DrummerMax64 came across the quote. Congrats, my friend!**

 **But there still are the two references I hid in chapter 12, the "Star Wars" reference, and chapter 14, the "Poultry Shack" reference, respectively. I sincerely hope someone will still find them …**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Eighteen

 **Schadenfreude**

 _Lächeln trotz Weh und tausend Schmerzen, doch wie's da drin aussieht, geht niemand etwas an._

"Immer nur lächeln" ("Always smiling," Music by Franz Lehár, Lyrics by Ottilie León, from the operetta "Das Land des Lächelns" ("The Land of Smiles") by Franz Lehár, 1929. Translation: "Smile despite woe and a thousand aches, but what goes on inside, is of no-one's concern." - Translation by yours truly.)

* * *

Adrian Bogo looked after the last departing ambulance, fighting his hardest to contain a huge sigh.

Talk about bad news!

It wasn't the first time he was forced to deal with the aftermath of a mammal running amok, not by a long shot. Even when it came to the simple body count, this incident, while certainly bad enough - seven dead mammals, five of them children, are nothing you see every day -, was far from being the worst thing he had ever seen. Nothing would probably be able to surpass the infamous "Schiller Shooting." A former student of "Frederick Schiller High School," a banteng, had entered his old school, armed with an assortment of (highly illegal) firearms to unleash hell and destruction upon his unfortunate former classmates and teachers. At the end of the day, 21 mammals had succumbed to their various gunshot wounds, four teachers, 16 students and one janitor. Combined with the thirty-odd injured mammals the culprit had caused, this had been worst firearms-related crime outside a mob war in the history of Zootopia, and by a country mile at that.

And since the perpetrator had finally put a bullet through his head, Bogo hadn't even been able to bring him to justice.

That had been without the shadow of a doubt one of the darkest days of his entire professional career.

But in a way, on a personal, but also, and more importantly, on a professional level, this was even darker.

For whatever reason, the media had been astonishingly quick on the uptake. Wherever he looked, he saw a frighteningly large number of reporters. It seemed like every major news company in the area had learned of this incident immediately after it had happened and had dispatched most of their personnel.

It probably was a good idea to look closer into this, to find out how they could have learned of this incident this quickly. But right now, he had more important things on his agenda.

Like dealing with this press gaggle. After all, they wanted to know what had really happened. After all, the public had the right to know what had been going on.

As if Bogo would be able to tell them.

Neither MacIntyre nor Hefner had been in any fit state to answer his questions. The events had thoroughly traumatized Hefner - she hadn't said one single word when Bogo had tried to talk to her, she had hardly even acknowledged his presence. Which was, of course, highly understandable and certainly not her fault, given the circumstances, but to Bogo, it still was quite … inconvenient. And MacIntyre hadn't even been conscious when Bogo had arrived. According to the medic in charge, he had suffered several broken ribs, one of which had punctured the lungs. The internal bleeding, shortness of breath, and general fatigue after a gruesome battle had at some point gotten the better of him. He would make a full recovery, probably quite a quick one, but at that particular moment, he was rendered _hors de combat_.

And nobody else had been able to tell Bogo much. The number of eye witnesses who could have been able to tell what had happened was a big, fat zero. Most had fled the scene as fast as possible, and those who had stayed behind had been incapable of saying anything … some of them for good.

It was an outright mess, that's what it was.

Still, the press wanted answers. And there was only one mammal they would listen to.

And that mammal was him.

Bogo started walking towards the police tape behind which at least four dozen mammals were looking at him expectantly, notepads and Dictaphones in paws or hooves, cameras trained on him. He walked with deliberate slowness, like a commander patrolling his troops, as if he was in full control of the situation. Which he wasn't, to the contrary. He walked slowly, because it gave him more time to gather his thoughts, to try and find something tangible that he could tell the press mammals.

What did he know? Not much. One mammal, a predator, had run berserk, maiming and killing seven mammals and injuring several more.

And nobody knew why.

The first instinct, of course, had been to look for the telltale signs of Nighthowler poisoning, but in that regard, the medics had drawn a complete and utter blank. There was no stain to be found on the cheetah, and the acrid odor of _Midnicampum holicithias_ that even Bogo had learned to make out had also been missing. There was no alcohol involved, no drugs, as far as the medics were able to tell. Nothing out of the ordinary.

As far as everyone was able to determine, Fitzinger had just gone savage without any cause or reason.

And even a dart from a tranq gun hadn't been able to bring her down.

This was the biggest mystery about all this. It was common knowledge that to knock out a mammal subjected to the Nighthowler serum, you needed a much stronger tranquilizing agent than usual. With the adrenal glands being kicked into overdrive by the serum, inundating the body of the victim with adrenaline, the normal dosage of tranquilizing agent simply wasn't enough. Hefner had taken account of that by picking a kind of tranq dart reserved for large mammals only. Its dosage was so potent, even the most aggressive lion would have been put to sleep immediately. In a normal, healthy cheetah, it could have caused instant death. It _should_ have caused instant death.

It obviously hadn't even slowed her down - at least that's what MacIntyre had told one of the medics.

And nobody had any explanation for that.

That was basically all he was able to tell the press gaggle.

 _I really have to choose between the devil and the deep blue sea here!_

What should he do? Tell everyone that the reason for Fitzinger to run amok had been Nighthowlers? While there certainly were several indications that this was indeed what they were looking at - the purported turn of events fit the story, plus everybody knew that Ramses was at large, and it was quite possible that he had come up with a new poison that was virtually undetectable -, Bogo simply had no proof for this claim. Besides, the idea that some madmammal was running about, poisoning predators with ruthless efficiency, would certainly scare a lot of mammals.

But the alternative was even worse. Way worse.

The last time the citizens of Zootopia had believed that predators were running savage without cause or reason, it had almost torn the city asunder.

And he couldn't tell the press mammals a blatant lie. Right now, it didn't seem like Nighthowlers were involved.

But they had to be.

Sadly, he had no proof. All he had was an obviously savage cheetah.

And a lot of questions.

The only thing he could do was tell the pressmammals that Fitzinger had been under a lot of duress, that she had been suffering from personal problems. There was no indication that she had been, but it sounded much more harmless than the alternative.

Bogo shook his head. _Carrie would never have attacked anyone, much less children! She must have been poisoned!_

Even before he was in shouting range, some of the reporters had trained their Dictaphones on him, shouting indistinguishable questions at him. He ignored them all, even managing to put a small, comforting smile on his face.

Nobody needed to see just how deeply this one affected him.

Upon reaching the police tape, Bogo heard numerous questions leveled at him. He looked at numerous cameras trained on him. He looked into a lot of eager faces.

Sometimes he hated his job!

Not acknowledging any of the questions, he said in the most calm tone that he could muster: "Ladies and Gentlemammals, you are probably expecting me to be able to give you answers as to what has happened here. Unfortunately, most of the facts still are somewhat puzzling. There are virtually no eye witnesses, so most of what I can give you now is guesswork. The number of things we can say with certainty is rather small.

"This morning, at about a quarter to eleven, our dispatcher at Precinct One HQ received a distress call. In it, the caller mentioned that a female cheetah had started attacking other mammals. There had been no prior warning. According to what we know so far, the cheetah had been fine one moment and had started attacking other mammals the next one, without prior warning, without being provoked."

"Were there casualties, Chief?" a female reporter shouted from somewhere in the back - Bogo wasn't even able to make her out among the numerous mammals.

"Unfortunately, yes, there were casualties. Seven mammals were killed by the cheetah, and no less than eighteen further mammals were injured, with some of those injuries being life-threatening, before one of our officers was able to subdue her. She's in custody now, or rather, she's on her way to the hospital, where she will be thoroughly examined and treated for numerous injuries."

"She was injured?" another mammal, a platypus, asked.

"Yes, quite severely. Several broken ribs, a broken nose, a broken jaw, among other injuries."

"How?"

"One of our officers, Officer Rockwell MacIntyre, was attacked by her and acted in self-defense. He managed to subdue her, if only by injuring her severely, but he was injured in the process as well. And I like to use this opportunity to thank Officer MacIntyre for his efforts and wish him a speedy recovery."

"We all do," the platypus said with a nod.

"The cheetah attacked out of the blue?" the first voice asked. "Sounds like Nighthowler poisoning."

Bogo nodded. "We cannot rule out this possibility, yes. However, right now, it is much too early to jump to conclusions."

"Were there any signs? Any stains?"

Bogo tried his hardest to not make a face. Now for the problematic part. "None that we were able to see," he admitted, then he added quickly: "But as you all know, the mammal responsible for the creation of the Nighthowler poison, the scientist Douglas Ramses, was sprung from Elkatraz Prison a few months ago. According to experts on the subject that I have been consulting, he has the abilities to come up with a new poison that would be much harder to identify. It is possible that we are looking at exactly that right now. But like I said, that is mere guesswork. Yes?" He pointed at a horse standing at the back who had raised his hoof.

"There were no stains, you said," the horse began in a slightly gravelly voice. "Yet you claim that Nighthowlers were involved."

"That's not what I claimed," Bogo said immediately. "I merely said that Nighthowler poisoning is something we should not rule out. As far as we are able to tell right now, the chain of events matches that of previous Nighthowler poisonings, so that is of course the first possible scenario we are looking at, especially regarding the fact that Douglas Ramses is still at large."

"If there was no stain," the horse said, "then how can you be so certain that Nighthowlers were involved?"

Bogo made a frown. _What is this guy up to?_ "Excuse me, sir, but are you even listening to me? I never claimed I was certain that they were, I merely said it is possible. During our investigations, we have to look at all angles, at all possibilities, with Nighthowler poisoning being one of them."

"And what, pray tell, are the other angles you are looking at?"

Bogo narrowed his eyes. What did this guy want? Was he trying to make him say that Carrie had turned savage without being poisoned?

 _Sorry, Carrie! I hope you can forgive me!_

"Like I said, it is much too early to jump to conclusions. However, I can imagine quite a lot of possible scenarios. Drugs or alcohol, work overload, an illness, or general mental instability. And bear in mind that we have no surviving eye witnesses who can give a full account. Maybe she was provoked to the point of snapping. We don't think she was, but this is another angle we need to look at." _Maybe this'll shut you up._

It didn't.

"Or maybe," the horse said in his calm, gravelly voice, "she simply turned savage, because she is a predator."

Bogo just stared at him, completely flabbergasted, not even realizing that the other pressmammals had started murmuring.

"Are you insinuating that you still believe that predators can turn savage?" Bogo asked softly, trying his hardest to mask his annoyance.

"No, I'm not," the horse countered immediately. "But didn't you tell us just a few moments ago that you want to look at all angles? Don't you think this is an angle you should look at?"

"No," Bogo said brusquely. "It has been proven that there is no such thing as a savage predator. The mere idea …"

"Has this really been proven?" The horse made a pause. "Yes, the last time predators went savage, Nighthowlers were to blame. But it has never been irrefutably proven that predators could not turn …"

"With all due respect, sir," Bogo cut him short, "there are tons of scenarios I can imagine before I even start thinking that a predator might have gone savage out of her own volition. When looking at other cases where mammals ran amok, there usually were other reasons involved, like mental instability, alcohol, or drugs. And may I remind you, the number of prey mammals running amok is at least as high, if not higher, as the number of predators running amok."

"I quite agree with you there," the horse said. "However, the fact remains that it's just a claim that predators can't go savage. Isn't that possibility an angle you should look at as well?"

"Sorry, but I need a lot more indications to that before I even think of considering the possibility that predators might go savage all by themselves. Right now, the most likely scenarios are either personal problems of the perpetrator, or, like I said, poisoning with some drug similar to the Nighthowler serum."

* * *

"He is good! Who is this guy?" Santino Coniglio looked up at his much larger friend. "He's one of us, right?"

Moritz Kaffer smiled. "He sure is. His name is Damdin Takhi. He is a journalist working for _The Sun_."

"The Sun?" Coniglio made a face. "Worst piece of garbage that ever saw the light of day."

Kaffer raised an eyebrow. "You do not like it?"

Coniglio snorted. "How could I? One of their teams stalked me for weeks after I was voted into the City Council. It's the worst newspaper by far and away! It's sensationalist, biased, …"

"And it has the highest circulation of all newspapers in Zootopia. No newspaper is read by more mammals, and that is all I am interested in. I could not care less if it is biased or sensationalist. Right now, bias and sensationalism are exactly what I am after."

Coniglio nodded, albeit with obvious reluctance. "You're right, Moe. Sorry. Just my personal opinion." Upon watching Bogo answer questions from other pressmammals, he made a frown. "But why doesn't he continue striking the iron now, while it's hot?"

Kaffer looked at the screen himself. Takhi could still be seen in the background, taking notes, but not asking any more questions himself. He muted the TV set. "He would be stupid to do so. He has given everybody food for thought. Further stressing the point might lead others to the conclusion that he knows more about the case than he should. Trust me, what he said was enough to get other mammals thinking. I am quite certain the possibility that predators turn savage by themselves is something that is discussed by other TV channels or newspapers as well, and that is enough right now. Soon, he will delve into this further, but right now, giving the public too much might as well be counterproductive."

"You think it's enough?"

"What he did so far? Not right now, but it will be in the long run. Mark my words, in a few days, other newspapers will discuss the possibilities of predators turning savage as well. And we will give them more food for thought. Takhi is not the only string to my bow, not by a long shot. Right now, he may be my most important one, but just one of …"

He was interrupted by his intercom which came to life with a beep. "Excuse me, Mr. Kaffer, but Mr. Ramses has returned," his secretary announced.

Kaffer nodded. "Send him in, Cynthia! And thank you."

The huge door opened immediately, and Doug Ramses walked in. A few days of R&R and a lot of fine dining had done wonders for his outward appearance, although he still was nowhere near his usual fighting weight. His face, however, showed nothing but intense satisfaction at a job well done.

Kaffer put on one of his rare smiles. "Doug! Excellent work! News of your achievement are already making the headlines." He pointed at the TV set.

Ramses nodded. "Wasn't even a challenge. She was completely stationary, enjoying the last cigarette of her life."

Kaffer raised an eyebrow. "You waited until she was done with her cigarette before you shot her? I would not have thought you would ever become such a sentimentalist."

Ramses snorted. "Certainly not. She was together with a moose, who was in the way most of the time. As soon as I had a clear shot, I took it."

"Good. No problems, I presume?"

"None. Like I said, wasn't even a challenge. I shot her while still sitting in my car. Took off as soon as I knew it was working the way I wanted it to." He pointed at the TV set, at Bogo still answering questions. "Who's that?"

Now Kaffer made a frown. "You do not know Chief Bogo?"

Ramses shook his head. "We've never met, if that's what you're asking."

"He's in the papers at least once a week," Coniglio said.

"I never read newspapers."

"Well, you should," Kaffer said. "Especially since they will help us reach our goal."

"That's what this was all about? Me shooting a female predator in broad daylight?"

"It certainly was. Something Bellwether completely overlooked during her attempt at taking over Zootopia."

"What do you mean?"

"It should be obvious. The mammals Bellwether told you to target had invariably been alone when you shot them, or had been with very few mammals at that point. She had gone to great pains to avoid unnecessary bloodshed."

"You obviously don't share that sentiment," Ramses said, pointing at the TV screen.

"I certainly do not share it. Had she created one high-profile case at the very beginning of her attempt to gain power, a predator turning savage under the very eyes of the public, with disastrous consequences, it would have made her attempt at taking over Zootopia so much more powerful. But she did not. She even allowed Lionheart to imprison the first fifteen poisoned mammals without anybody noticing. It took more than three months for the public to even realize that mammals had been turning savage in their midst. And even after Lionheart had been arrested and the facts of the case had been made known to everybody, the public outcry was, how shall I put it? It was rather underwhelming. If I recall correctly, you were among the mammals at the press conference, asking Hopps if it was only predators turning savage, right?"

"It was me, yes."

"And you were the only one. Nobody else had drawn the conclusion. Now, if we create one very public case," he pointed at the TV set himself, "and have someone ask the right questions at the very beginning, as early as possible, the effect it has on the public will be much more impactful. Bellwether was trying her hardest not to rattle the public too much, so our adversaries were able to quickly put out the fire, well before it could have turned into a firestorm. I intend to create a firestorm from the get-go, a firestorm so huge that no fire department in the whole wide world will be able to put it out. I - _we_ \- will attack on so many fronts, the ZPD and all their associates will not know where to turn first."

"So the poison …"

"Is only a small part of the puzzle. A hugely important one, yes, but just one part of many. For instance," Kaffer pointed at Coniglio, "our mutual friend here is going to spring into action soon, on two fronts actually."

Ramses frowned. "Two? Hang on, he'll aim for mayoralty, obviously, but what's the second one?"

"You will find out soon enough." Kaffer looked at Coniglio. "I assume you are ready?"

"Wallace and I've been ready for months, Moe, and you know it," Coniglio responded.

"Good. I daresay the time to strike is almost upon us. You know what to do?"

"Of course."

"Splendid! I leave the details up to you. If you just do what you can do best, everything should work out marvelously."

Coniglio nodded while looking back at the TV screen, then his features lit up. "Turn up the volume, I need to hear this!"

Ramses looked at the TV set himself. It no longer showed a picture of Bogo, who had obviously ended the press conference, but a female banded pig talking into the microphone proffered by one unseen reporter. The scene itself had changed, too, no longer showing the kindergarten playground, but a typical suburban neighborhood. When Kaffer turned up the volume again, the pig's voice could be heard. It was surprisingly low-pitched, considering her small size. "… _always been lamenting about her stressful job. Tending for small children is such a bother, she always said. Maybe Carrie just snapped, I don't know_."

" _What do you mean?_ " the unseen reporter asked.

" _Well, uhm, she's been under a lot of stress lately. Who knows what she was thinking? I mean, she wouldn't be the first one to crack under pressure, right?_ "

" _Thank you_ ," the reporter said.

Kaffer muted the TV set again. "Your idea?" he asked Coniglio.

"You bet. When you told me who the first victim would be, I did some digging. Turns out our dear Ms. Fitzinger was somewhat of a loner. Living alone, no husband, no boyfriend, neighbors hardly knew her. Perfect, I thought. I asked around, found a third-rate actress, told her to heap a bit of verbal abuse on Fitzinger, end of story."

"Good thinking."

"Hang on," Doug said. "She sounded like she knew Fitzinger."

"Because that's what I told her to say," Coniglio said with a grin. "The longer the ZPD takes to realize that there really is your poison involved, the better. Why not let the people think Fitzinger just snapped, just turned savage because of her, oh, so stressful life?"

"That is exactly what I was talking about," Kaffer continued. "Right now, everybody will believe she just ran amok. At the same time, the seeds that Takhi planted will remain in the backs of their minds. Given a few more public cases, the idea that predators are just turning savage, because it is, ahem, in their nature, will take a firm foothold. And that is what we need. Of course, sooner or later, the ZPD will wizen up to the act. The longer we can manage to prevent this, the greater the chances are for our plans to succeed. And when their antidote will fail, they will be less likely to suspect the involvement of the Nighthowler serum. We need to buy ourselves more time to establish firm control over Zootopia. By the way, Doug, I take it you have gone to great pains to make sure they will not be able to identify the poison as such, have you not?"

"I sure have," Doug replied. "The primary components break apart, once their job is done, which is one reason why their antidote won't work, and the addition of HHCB should make sure they can't detect the poison's smell. I've actually thought of changing the, ahem, fragrance for our next batch of Nighthowler serum. Maybe I'll try lavender next time. Very strong smell, well-known for repelling moths and similar insects."

"So it will be even more difficult to detect." Kaffer nodded. "Marvelous idea."

"As long as the poison still works," Coniglio said.

Doug straightened himself. "It will, trust me."

"We're counting on it."

Kaffer leaned back, a sinister smile on his face. "And so it begins."

* * *

 **And so it begins …**

 **Now, these notes are going to be really long, but I feel the need to explain a few things.**

 **Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps wrote in his review that "Zootopians are going to be so irate about this," and he went further to explain that this "prey group […] really doesn't understand Zootopia, and this plan of theirs, even with concentrated Nighthowlers, won't last long when 9 million mammals are out looking for them. There won't be anywhere safe for them to hide from that big a mob coming after them for hurting children."**

 **I didn't comment on this when I answered you, Cimar, but I obviously pondered on it. On the face of it, you seem to be perfectly right. The city survived the first attack with the Nighthowler serum, it'll certainly withstand another one.**

 **Or will it?**

 **Why did everything work this smoothly in the movie? Why was it enough for Nick and Judy to uncover Bellwether's crimes? Why was Zootopia united? And the few voices of dissent ("Go back to the forest, predator!") don't count. In the end, they all celebrated during Gazelle's concert. Why did the fear that Bellwether tried to instill in the hearts of the citizens of Zootopia never truly materialize? Why do we see no signs of larger groups of prey mammals uniting against predators in an attempt to subdue them? (That one has irritated me for a long time, so I created one myself. You can find the "Prey Protection Society" PPS in chapter two of "Wound." And just in case you're wondering, it'll make a return in this story as well.)**

 **The answer is actually very simple: All this happened because the movie "Zootopia" was intended for all ages. Scenes of carnage and destruction are not what you should expose children to. But those were the things that should have happened, had the movie been truly realistic. The mass media being in an absolute frenzy over the events, that's what we should have seen. Instead, we saw one rather modest newspaper headline and the "City Gripped by Fear" newscast, that's all. There was no reason for all of Zootopia to be afraid. Would you have been? I rather doubt it.**

 **But would you have been afraid if the media had told you over and over again that predators are a major threat and that you are in immediate danger of losing your life?**

 **I bet my bottom dollar that it would have scared the heebie-jeebies out of you.**

 **To quote Judy: "Turns out, real life's a little bit more complicated than a slogan on a bumper sticker."**

 **Why did Bellwether fail? Could it be that she failed because of the things Kaffer mentions in here? Could it be that she failed because her attempt at striking fear in the hearts of the citizens of Zootopia was too late, quite feeble, and on the whole, utterly useless?**

 **Bellwether tried to utilize what, in today's crazy world, is commonly known as "fake news." The facts she stated were in fact none. There had never been a predator threat, she merely tried to make believe there was. And she tried to achieve this by turning just a few predators savage, plus she sent Doug to Judy's press conference to let him state that "predators are turning savage." That's all she did.**

 **Was this smart?**

 **When looking at the history books, I tend to disagree. I said it numerous times before: I'm hugely interested in history, particularly what happened during the Third Reich. And when looking at this particular set of events, one cannot help but come to very different conclusions.**

 **Just as there was no reason to fear predators in the movie, there was never a reason for the German population to fear Jews. (Most Jews** ** _were_** **German, for crying out loud!) Yet the Nazis claimed there was. And after they had come to power and were in the position to rule Germany as they saw fit, they had the means to tell the people over and over again.**

 **You want an example?**

 **At the time of this writing, my hometown has some 15.000 citizens, and if we want to read the local newspaper without buying one, there is one public display where we can find it. Back in 1933, the year the NSDAP came to power, my hometown only consisted of about 9.600 citizens. Despite being that much smaller, it boasted no less than four so-called "Stürmerkästen." In the 1930's, you could have found those in every German city, and in huge numbers at that. These were public displays of an absolutely hideous German newspaper called "Der Stürmer" (The Attacker). The paper, created by a certified a-hole named Julius Streicher, called, among other things, for the complete extermination of the Jewish population as early as 1933. That's how atrocious the paper was. (I'm very opposed to death sentences, but even I have to admit that the fact that Julius Streicher was executed for his crimes fills me with a certain grim satisfaction.) And "Der Stürmer" was just one of numerous publications which did nothing but tell the German population over and over again that Jews were a threat to Germany as a whole. The "Völkischer Beobachter" (Public Observer), while a bit more restrained, was just as bad in rubbing the lie that the Nazis were right and everybody else was wrong under the people's noses.**

 **It is common knowledge that if you hear something over and over again, you slowly, but surely, start believing it yourself. The people were told over and over again that Hitler was right, that Jews were a mortal enemy of the German people, that the German population needed more "Lebensraum," that the Aryan race was, in and of itself, superior to all other races. And due to the power of simple repetition, due to the power of simple bombardment with "fake news," a lot of Germans fell for it, started believing the nonsense the Nazis spouted. And this belief in turn gave Hitler and his bunch of criminals the means to unleash death and destruction on millions of innocent people who had done nothing to earn the ire of the German population. And hardly anyone stepped up against them to try and put a stop to their monstrous atrocities, even those who should have known better, like most churches.**

 **The NSDAP ruled with absolute authority. Bellwether wanted to do it, too, but the way she went after it, that was just plain useless. It could never have worked the way she intended. Not without trying to shove the lie that she was right down other people's throats over and over again.**

 **From a strictly strategic point of view, she had the right idea when she wanted to use fear to rule. People who are mortally afraid will never try and rise against their dictator. It's only when enough people manage to overcome their fears that a dictator should start to fear for his rule, maybe even for his life. Just look at what happened to Nicolae Ceauşescu, dictatorial leader of Romania until his violent demise in 1989. He had ruled Romania with an iron fist, and had done so for decades. But when the people stopped cowering in fear, when they united against him and openly displayed their defiance during his infamous last speech on December 21, 1989, his days were numbered, literally.**

 **The number of people who tried to murder Hitler to stop his nefarious schemes was negligible, and all their attempts ultimately failed. Like Rudolf-Christoph von Gersdorff, a German officer who worked in the resistance against Hitler, put it once, it took a coalition of almost all the worlds' superpowers to defeat Hitler, to club him to death "wie einen tollen Hund" (like a rabid dog).**

 **The German population could never have done it, because the vast majority believed in the lies the Nazis spouted, and those select few that didn't were forced to live in mortal fear for their lives, should they have dared to openly oppose Hitler.**

 **Now, let's apply this knowledge, these historical facts, to Zootopia. When looking at things from Bellwether's point of view, this is what she should have done, but didn't do. She should have created a few high-profile cases of savage predators, she should have utilized the mass media for her cause, which would certainly have created mass hysteria, would certainly have created the city gripped by fear she so desperately needed for her scheme to work. But she didn't, which is why there still were a lot of mammals who asked themselves: "Hang on, can this be right?" Just listen to Gazelle talking about the Zootopia she loves. Does she sound like a mammal cowering in fear? I don't think so.**

 **Had Bellwether been in a position of absolute power, had everyone counted on her doing the right thing to protect the population from a perceived serious threat, nothing Judy and Nick could have done would have been able to take her down. It wouldn't have mattered that she was the one who created the threat in the first place, it wouldn't have mattered that there basically was no threat at all. That's how the Nazis ruled Germany during the Third Reich, that's how they got away with the grossest of crimes. Just because the German population thought Hitler and his bunch of criminals were doing the right thing. There has never been a Jewish threat to the German population, there has never been the need for more "Lebensraum" in the east, there has never been such thing as a master race, but the Nazis made the people believe in all these things. Fear always works …**

 **It's really remarkable that Bellwether failed to think along the same lines. She had the, ahem, "right" ideas, but she wasn't even close to being at that position of power, so she went down. In the end, she was just one lonely sheep with just a few henchmammals who tried to do things on her own, instead of utilizing every resource available to her to cause the fear she so desperately needed for her plot to work. She needed to sway public opinion towards her line of thinking, but didn't. An oversight she never even realized as such.**

 **Unlike Kaffer. Which is why from now on, things will take a rather dark turn …**

 **Like I said before, the real reason why Bellwether did nothing was because the movie "Zootopia" was intended for all ages, that pictures of carnage and destruction aren't what you should subject children to. But this is a story for a more mature readership, so I have no such inhibitions.**

 **So, brace yourself for some major carnage!**

 **Now, make no mistake about it: This is by no means a new idea. I had always intended to mention this angle in my story, but Cimar's review made it clear to me that this wasn't quite good enough. To make everything in here work the way I want it to, I need to make this a major plot point. Which is why my plans received such a massive overhaul.**

 **And this is also why I created a completely new OC here, just to get this point across, just to create the mass media frenzy that Kaffer's plot needs. Damdin Takhi has to be a Przewalski's horse,** ** _Equus ferus przewalskii_** **, a highly endangered Mongolian wild horse, named after the Russian explorer Nikolay Przhevalsky. "Takhi" is the Mongolian name for the type of horse, and Damdin Sükhbaatar was a founding member of the Mongolian People's Party. Yeah, that's how I find my names, just by mistreating Wikipedia!**

 **With all that being said, thanks again for sharing your thoughts with me, Cimar! In case you have more ideas, you know where to find me!**

 **"** **Frederick Schiller High School" was named after the German poet, Friedrich Schiller. I'm a huge fan of his plays, namely "Die Räuber" (The Robbers), "Kabale und Liebe" (Intrigue and Love), and "Wilhelm Tell" (William Tell).**

 **In case you're wondering, yes, I took the real "The Sun" as template for this newspaper. In Great Britain, it's the newspaper with the highest circulation, and for a reason - it has the biggest headlines, the most colorful pictures, and the most sordid stories, many of which were, at least in the past and probably even today, heavily fabricated, for instance the case when Elton John was accused of having had sex with rent boys or that he had the voice boxes of his dogs surgically removed. Or the infamous "Freddie Starr Ate My Hamster" headline, in which British comedian Freddie Starr was falsely accused of having eaten a live hamster when no other food was available. I do not exactly cherish newspapers like those (Germany has its own equivalent, named "Bild," and if possible, it's even worse than "The Sun"), so this is my version of a really bad, biased, sensationalist newspaper.**

 **In case you're asking yourself how Rocky was able to fight the cheetah with broken ribs, it's actually quite easy to explain. As a rule, you don't feel injuries to your ribs at first. The pain comes much later. Part of the reason for this is that there are just a very few pain nerves (called nociceptors) in your lungs. Plus the huge amounts of adrenaline flooding his body will certainly have done their part to mask the pain. At least that's what I gathered from reading several books about it. Since I've yet to suffer a fracture - never broke even one bone in my entire life, much less a rib or two -, I'm afraid I can't speak from personal experience here.**

 **Seeing that there still are two open quotes that nobody found so far, and seeing that writing this chapter was such a bother, I really didn't try and hide another quote in here. If there is one, it can only be a coincidence.**

 **So, that's it for today! Thanks for reading, and if you could send a comment my way, I'd be grateful!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	19. Chapter 19 - A Tale of Woe

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **And what do you know, I had some completely hassle-free days since publishing the last chapter! Rare occasion, this …**

 **I also received some quite interesting reviews. I'm talking, in particular, about one anonymous guest, to whom I can only reply: Don't count your chickens before … you know the rest, I guess.**

 **Another set of reviews and comments were sent my way by Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps, who, for some strange reason, seems to like this story very much, at least I always receive quite a lot of thoughtful comments. We haven't always agreed on things, though, which is fine, as far as I'm concerned. Everybody's entitled to his or her own opinion, and I certainly don't have the right to tell anyone what he/she should think. Our last discussion in particular was quite, how shall I put it? Quite interesting.**

 **In response to Cimar and to everyone else thinking along the same lines after having read the last chapter, and especially my author's notes, I only wanna say this:**

 **Just because somebody thinks his plan is sound, it doesn't mean it is.**

 **Just because somebody thinks he has covered all his bases, it doesn't mean he has.**

 **Just because somebody thinks he can get away with what he's about to do, it doesn't mean he can.**

 **Life** ** _is_** **messy, Judy was very right about this. Just when you think that success is a given, something happens that'll ruin it for you …**

 **And just what do I mean by that? Well, food for thought …**

 **On top of the anonymous guest and Cimar, I also received reviews from Dirtkid123, J Shute Norway, Combat Engineer, HawkTooth, and Gallowaychi (Rozzy? Sheesh …). As always, I bow down in gratitude!**

 **These are the current stats: More than 26,400 views, 195 reviews, 149 favorites, and 237 alerts. Thank you for following this story with such a fervor! I still don't think I deserve this …**

 **Now, the quotes I hid in previous chapters. Since they haven't been found after all this time, I guess it's safe to say that they won't be found any time soon, so I'm disclosing them right now:**

 **The "Star Wars" reference I hid in chapter 12 was the line "Impatience was the easiest door for her." I rephrased it slightly, but apart from that, it was taken directly out of the book "Return of the Jedi" by James Kahn, the scene when the vision of Obi-Wan Kenobi talks about his former Padawan, Anakin Skywalker, to his son Luke Skywalker. Still think some of you could have found it …**

 **But I admit that the "Poultry Shack" reference from chapter 14 was really obscure. I don't think many of you played the first "NASCAR Racing" game by Papyrus Design Group, released in 1994. While it correctly depicted quite a lot of real-life drivers of the NASCAR Winston Cup series of that time, some were omitted, so to have a full roster of race cars, Papyrus created a few fictitious ones. One of those, I don't remember who it was, nor what his name was (Hey, that was 24 years ago!), was racing for the "Poultry Shack" team, with the commercial tagline going: "Three clucks for four bucks, only at Poultry Shack." It's been more than twenty years since I played that game, but somehow, after all these years, that line still remained in my head, no idea why.**

 **Yeah, remembering pointless stuff, that's me!**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Nineteen

 **A Tale of Woe**

 _Can't wake up in sweat, 'cause it ain't over yet._

Avenged Sevenfold: "Nightmare" (Written by M. Shadows, from the album "Nightmare," Warner Bros., 2010)

* * *

After a short knock, the door to the room opened, and Doris Waterman, the capybara nurse, entered the room. "I'm terribly sorry to cut things short here," she said in her soft, friendly voice, "but I'm afraid I need to ask you to leave now. Vivian needs rest."

From her bed, Vivian gave a snort. "I'll get more than enough rest soon!"

Nick got up from his chair next to the bed. "No, Mom, she's right. We've been talking for three hours. It's high time you get your beauty sleep."

Vivian snorted again. "It's far too late for that, Nicky."

Judy giggled, as if Vivian's words had been the most funny thing on Earth, but she secretly had to admit that the vixen was right. There was nothing beautiful about Vivian anymore. Nick had shown Judy old pictures of his mother in her prime, and Judy had felt something akin to a stab of jealousy when looking at the immaculate, breathtaking beauty that had once been Vivian Wilde.

Now, the ravishing beauty was reduced to barely more than a skeleton covered in paper-thin, virtually furless skin.

Even to the most casual observer, it was obvious that Vivian already had one paw firmly in the grave. As a matter of fact, everybody, the doctors, nurses, as well as Nick and Judy, could only marvel at the fact that she was still alive. As Doctor Pawson had put it, she was practically dead already, but her heart simply didn't know it yet - it just kept pumping.

Nick bowed down to hug his mother, taking great care not to dislodge the nasal tube providing her with oxygen. "We'll be back tomorrow, Mom."

"With all the police work you two are doing, I don't think so," Vivian replied with a grin.

"But we will," Judy said. "We've clocked in so many extra hours lately, Major Mastiff explicitly told us he didn't want to see our tails at Precinct One for the remainder of the week. We'll come back tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after _that_ …"

"I like this Major of yours already. Don't overexert yourselves, do you hear me? Look after yourselves." She looked at Judy. "All work and no play makes Nick a dull boy."

Nick rolled his eyes. "We really should leave, Carrots! She's already quoting movies!"

Judy grinned. "As long as she doesn't go for an axe." She climbed on top of the bed to give Vivian a hug, too. By now, hugging her had become as commonplace as hugging Nick had become, with the difference that Nick was able to withstand a rough embrace.

Whenever Judy put her arms around Vivian, she couldn't help thinking that applying too much pressure might kill her.

"You keep looking after my Nicky, will you?" Vivian whispered, barely loud enough for even Judy to hear.

"I will," Judy replied just as softly.

Vivian gave Judy one last hug, then she let go of her and sunk back into her pillow with a sigh. "Get lost, you two! Enjoy life! Enjoy the sunshine!"

Nick grabbed her paw with his own, giving it a short squeeze. "Love you, Mom!"

"I love you too, Nick!"

Saying their fair-wells, they left the room with a last wave, which Vivian countered with a simple nod - the IV drip attached to her right arm made lifting the arm difficult, and her left one had, a few weeks ago, started to become semi-paralyzed.

 _At this stage_ , Judy couldn't help thinking as Waterman closed the door behind them, _death might be a blessing_.

After having had a few months of trying to deal with the thought of losing Vivian soon, the fact itself had lost some of its sting. She would certainly lament the loss of the vixen she had learned to love dearly, she would certainly shed quite a lot of tears - stupid emotional bunny that she was -, yet she was slowly, but surely, coming to grips with the sad reality.

What was surprising, though, was that Nick seemed to have a lot more problems with dealing with the situation. Of course, it was his own mother's death he was facing, which was a completely different story than the one Judy was looking at. But his customary aloofness, his nothing-gets-to-me attitude, was distinctly lacking when it came to dealing with the prospect of being able to visit his mother only by going to the graveyard.

As if having read her unspoken thoughts, he looked down at Judy with a frown. "You can't imagine how hard this is for me." His voice was harsh, surprisingly so.

Judy nodded. "I probably can't."

"I have squandered twenty years trying to be something I never truly was. I broke her heart countless times. I cost her the most precious years of happiness. I destroyed her ideas of living a happy family life." He heaved a sigh. "And I can't make it up to her."

Judy lunged for his paw, squeezing it. "But you already have!"

Nick snorted. "Yeah, and a fat lot of good it did!"

"Nick," Judy said softly, "she has made her peace! She is content! You know that just as well as I do. Don't you think it's time for you to be content, too?"

Nick sighed again. "Since when have you become a shrink?"

Judy gave a grin. "I've always been one, you just never realized it."

Nick looked at the closed door behind which Vivian was lying in her bed. "I have caused her so much pain and anguish!" He made a pause. "There are days when I really, truly, hate myself!"

Judy shrugged. "Which only means I need to love you all the harder, to make up for all that hate."

Nick looked around automatically, to make sure nobody was able to overhear them. "How can you love someone like me?"

"Oh, that's easy," Judy said with a grin. "I just look at that fluffy tail of yours, and my heart goes all warm, and my brain goes all fuzzy."

Finally, Nick cracked a smile, too, albeit a reluctant, rather weak one. "Taking pages out of my own book, eh?"

"Hey, if you don't do it, somebody else has to!" Judy looked up at him, and her grin vanished. "Nick, I love you despite all your faults, despite all your shortcomings. Heck, maybe even because of them!"

That sentence, finally, made his usual, funny self return from the dark pits it had fallen into. "Let it be known to you, young bunny, that I have no faults I know of."

"Which only goes to show just how little you know, old fox." Both shared a grin, then Judy let go of his paw, and they started walking down the corridor which led to Zootopia General's hospice center.

Even before they reached it, Judy made a frown. "Something's not right?"

Nick looked at her, at her swiveling ears. "What do you mean?"

"There's a lot of commotion near the back entrance, as if they are dealing with numerous emergencies at once."

"You can hear that from _here_?"

"Yes, faintly." Without further comment, she took off towards the hospitals' emergency department, and Nick had to hurry to follow her.

"Carrots, you think this is a bright idea? We'll only get in the way. They'll probably not even let us get close."

"Maybe, but I'm curious."

Nick groaned. "Which will be the death of me yet!"

Upon approaching the emergency department, they found out that Nick was right. A massive polar bear was standing in the corridor leading to the emergency rooms, effectively blocking the path. Behind him, several medics were busy tending to injured mammals lying on stretchers. Judy noticed with some discomfort that at least two of the injured were children. Wherever she looked, all she saw was frantic activity.

Upon seeing them, the bear's gruff features lit up. "Ah, WildeHopps," Markus Grizzoli said. "You heard the news?"

"No, we've been here already to pay somebody a visit," Judy said, choosing to not mention whom they had been visiting. Nick had been very reluctant to tell their workmates that his mother was dying, and although Judy couldn't understand why he was keeping something like that so close to his chest, she obviously respected his wishes. "I thought I heard a commotion. What news?"

Grizzoli's smile faded. "Savage cheetah at a kindergarten in Savanna Central."

"WHAT?" Nick and Judy shouted at the same time.

"You heard me," Grizzoli said grimly. "Female kindergarten teacher, about fifty years of age, attacked other mammals out of the blue."

"Casualties?" Nick asked.

"Seven dead, five of them children. Eighteen injured, but some of them probably won't last the night."

"Whose case is it?"

"At the moment, no one's. Bogo went there himself, so I guess he'll take over personally."

Nick snorted. "Only to to devolve it upon other officers later."

"Which is his prerogative as the chief," Judy said matter-of-factly. "Do we know anything about the cheetah?"

"Not much. Just your standard, run-of-the-mill kindergarten teacher, completely unremarkable, until today. The only thing I heard so far is that Nighthowlers obviously didn't play a role here."

"Not?"

"No. I don't know the details though. Maybe you should ask Bogo. Or you could ask her." He pointed towards a hospital bed situated in the back. In it, a small mammal was lying, completely unmoving, staring at the ceiling.

Judy squinted her eyes. "Is that who I think it is?"

"That's a new recruit. Came in today. Forgot the name. She was one of the first to arrive at the scene and got the shock of her life. Can't blame her. It was quite the grisly sight."

"Is this your bunny friend you were talking about, Fluff?" Nick asked. Unlike Judy, his keen eyes had already told him that the mammal lying in the bed was a rabbit.

"Sure looks like it. Thanks, Markus!"

"You're welcome!" Grizzoli turned around to look at the scene again.

"Do you really think Nighthowlers weren't involved here?" Nick asked as they were walking away from Grizzoli and towards the bed.

"Not in a thousand years! Mammals don't turn savage without a cause."

"Markus seemed quite certain."

Judy gave a grunt. "You know Markus! He's the last one to realize what's going on. Always has been, always will be."

The bed Izzy Hefner was lying in was one of those usual rhino-sized ones. Judging from the place it was standing at, the medics had given her just the most basic of care before putting her at a location where she wasn't in the way, so they could deal with the more pressing issues, the more severely injured mammals. Hefner almost disappeared under at least three different blankets which covered her completely from the neck down. Her legs were propped up in what appeared to be the classic passive leg raising treatment for shock patients. An IV bag was connected to her left arm, probably containing some saline solution.

Even before reaching the bed, Izzy turned her head around to look at them, and the slight smile Judy had tried to show completely faltered.

Izzy's eyes were that of a dead mammal.

"Hi, Judy," Izzy said softly before turning her head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Izzy! I had no idea that today was your first day!" Judy said, completely unsure how to approach the subject matter.

Izzy sighed. "And what a first day it has been!"

"Yeah, we heard it. How are you feeling?"

Izzy seemed to ponder on this question. "Better? Worse? I don't know."

"Are you injured?"

"No, I'm fine, physically. The rest …" She gave a shudder. "It was awful!"

"Can you tell us what happened?" Nick asked with an astoundingly soft voice.

Izzy looked at him. "You're Nick Wilde," she said, her tone void of emotions.

"I am indeed. It's a pleasure to meet you. Judy told me a lot about you." Nick extended his paw.

Izzy looked at the paw, then at Nick, then she looked up at the ceiling again, ignoring the proffered paw.

Judy looked up at Nick, who shrugged, lowering his paw again. To him, being rejected because of being a fox had become rare, but he still was used to it. Judy, however, was quite annoyed by her friend's behavior. Sure. Izzy had her own dark past with foxes to contend with, but so had Judy herself.

But maybe she simply was too stunned at the moment to still care for basic etiquette. Given her outward appearance, it was obvious that she had suffered a major shock.

"We were alerted to a cheetah having turned savage in some kindergarten." Izzy's voice was barely audible. "We were the first …"

"Sorry, but who is 'we'?" Judy asked.

"Rocky and me."

"Bogo made you team up with Rocky?" Judy said.

"Of course he did, Fluff," Nick said grimly. "They're well-matched in terms of size, and our old cruiser was catching dust in the parking lot."

"That's what Rocky told me." Izzy took a deep breath. "When we arrived, it … it was awful! So many dead mammals. Children. Torn-off limbs. Blood. So much blood!" She snorted. "I tried to run, but I stumbled over a leg." She made a pause. "I stumbled over a fucking _leg_!"

Judy closed her eyes. No wonder her old friend was in shock - that one would probably have shocked everyone.

Nick knelt down next to the bed. "I'm sorry for what you had to go through, I really am. Hell of a first day, huh?" His voice was just as soft as it had been when he had told Judy about the Muzzle Incident up there in the skytram car, years gone by.

Izzy sighed. "You could say that," she said without looking at him.

"Where's Rocky?" Judy asked softly.

"Probably in surgery. Has some broken ribs, I reckon."

"Did he fight the cheetah?" Nick asked.

"He had to. I shot the cheetah with a tranq dart. Didn't take her down. She just went after me."

"You tranqed her, and she shook it off?"

"Went after me like a cannonball."

"Maybe you picked a dart that was too …" Judy began.

Izzy looked at her. "Judy, I shot the cheetah with a red dart!"

"A red dart?" Nick echoed. "And it didn't bring her down?"

"It didn't."

Both Nick and Judy shared a look of incredulity. The tranquilizing darts provided to the ZPD came in eight different levels of effectiveness, distinguished by their respective colors, ranging from violet, the weakest, up to black, for the highest dosage of tranquilizing agent. Red was the color reserved for the second strongest tranquilizing darts, intended to be used on large, strong, aggressive mammals only. Although cheetahs were considered large mammals, they were significantly smaller than lions or tigers, so a red dart was patently too strong for them. Shooting them with one of those almost always resulted in instant cardiac arrest.

Izzy continued: "I had heard that those savage predators you faced years ago were hard to bring down with tranq darts, so instead of taking the usual yellow or orange ones, I picked the red one."

"Seems like a good call," Nick said. His voice sounded strangely hollow.

"Not good enough." Suddenly, tears started forming in the corners of Izzy's eyes. "Rocky defended me." She sobbed. "Rocky saved my life! If not for him, I'd be dead!"

Judy jumped on top of the bed and flung her arms around the other bunny, who was positively bawling. "It's okay, Izzy! You're safe! No one can hurt you!"

At first, Judy's words of comfort didn't seem to reach Izzy's ears, but after a few minutes of unrestrained weeping, after numerous words of solace and support by Judy, the tears slowly started to subside. Soon, Izzy was merely sniffling.

"So it's true," Izzy said after having calmed down again, although her voice was still quite shaky.

Judy let go of her to look at her with a frown. "What do you mean?"

"Rocky told me that you … and him …" She made a nod towards Nick.

Judy nodded. Izzy had obviously sensed the different scent on her. "Yes, we are, but it's a secret," she whispered.

"I know. Rocky told me." Izzy took a deep breath. "Are you sure this is smart?"

Judy put on a soft smile. "Am I sure? No, no, I am not. But the question whether it is smart or not is the last thing I want to think about, to be honest."

"Well, you should. What would your parents say if …"

Judy's smile vanished, and her voice couldn't hide the annoyance she started to feel towards her old friend. "My parents know, and they think it's okay."

"Really?" Izzy propped herself up on her right arm. "They do? Even your fox-hating daddy?"

"My dad doesn't hate foxes," Judy said icily. "Never has. He may have feared them once, but that's a thing of the past. He likes Nick, and I guess the feeling is mutual."

"It sure is," Nick said in an even tone. "I love him like a father, because he acts like one to me."

Izzy just stared at him. Nick continued, still in the even voice: "Let me guess, you don't approve."

"No, I don't," Izzy responded flatly.

"How can you say that?" Judy said in obvious outrage. "It was a fox who saved …"

"This has nothing to do with him being a fox," Izzy countered. She seemed to have overcome her shock, for her voice was no longer weepy, but harsh. "You shouldn't mate outside your own species, that's all I'm saying."

Judy looked around, but there were no mammals in the vicinity who could have overheard them. "Well, I have, and just so you know, I wouldn't want it any other way. And if you don't like it, you can go and eat my shorts!"

Izzy's eyes widened in surprise. "Jude!"

Judy stared her down, lowering her voice. "You're one of my oldest friends, Izzy, but if I had to choose between you and Nick, you can bet your bottom dollar I won't choose you."

"Now that's a bit harsh," Nick said mildly. "By the way, looks like we got company."

Judy looked up, seeing a male leopard nurse wearing scrubs approaching. She jumped down from the bed again, looking at the nurse.

"Terribly sorry to disturb," the nurse said in a measured tone, "but I need to look after the patient. Are you related?"

Judy lunged into her pocket to produce her badge. "She's a workmate of mine. Judy Hopps, ZPD. This is my partner, Lieutenant Wilde."

"Oh! What an honor! Do you need assistance, ma'am?"

Judy shook her head. "No, we're done here, and we certainly don't want to get in the way. Just wanted to make sure Officer Hefner is well. How's Officer MacIntyre?"

"You mean the fox police officer? He's in surgery right now. Took one nasty hit to the chest. Five broken ribs, as far as I know, probably a traumatic pneumothorax." Upon Judy's look of incomprehension, he added: "That's how doctors call a collapsed lung, ma'am."

"I see. How's it look?"

"Good enough, as far as I can tell. He looked like the epitome of health to me, so I think he'll recover just fine."

Judy nodded. "Can you tell us anything about the victim?"

"Uh, which one?"

Judy took a deep breath. "We were told a savage cheetah caused all this."

"She wasn't the victim here, ma'am." Suddenly his eyes widened. "Or do you think she was poisoned with Nighthowlers?"

"Do you have a better explanation?"

"Uhm, no, come to think of it. Well, I don't know anything about her. I had other patients to attend to."

"Of course. Well, we won't get in your way anymore. Have a nice day! " She nodded towards Izzy, turned around on her heel and stomped off towards Grizzoli, who was still standing in the middle of the corridor, obviously to make sure the doctors and medics could go about their business unimpeded. Again, Nick had to hurry to follow her.

"Any particular reason why you didn't tell the nurse that you're friends?" he asked once he had caught up with Judy.

"Apart from the fact that I don't feel particularly friendly towards her at the moment?" Judy's voice was pure venom.

Nick gave her a serious look. "You always knew it would be an uphill battle, didn't you?"

Judy sighed. "Of course, but … Izzy's one of my oldest friends. Her father is an old buddy of Dad. They often play cribbage together. He runs a repair shop in Bunnyburrow. Two of my brothers work for him, and my family's one of his most faithful customers. Nobody can repair farming machinery faster or better than Sam Hefner." She snorted. "I would have expected something like this from anybody, just not from her."

"That's just how it is, Fluff. You know just as well as I do that a lot of mammals won't approve."

"Probably not." Judy sighed again and stopped, turning around to look back at the bed which was now pushed towards the ER rooms by the leopard. Izzy was still looking at her, a look of incomprehension on her face. "Hell of a first day! I'm sorry for you, Izzy."

"I guess even she can't hear you from there."

"She wasn't … forget it!" Judy looked up at Nick. "Imagine your first day had been like this."

"I always say the ZPA doesn't really prepare you for the ugly stuff," Nick said deadpan. "Major Friedkin can claim that 'You'll be dead!' as often as she likes, but that's no preparation for something like that." His face showed intense disgust. There was no humor to be found in his face, his stance, or his voice.

"It would scare away a lot of potential candidates if they did," Judy said.

Nick gave a harrumph. "Yeah, and so they receive the shock of their life, once they join the force." He shook his head as they started walking again. "You ever asked yourself, Carrots, why so many new recruits quit after just a few months?"

Judy nodded. Just recently, she had read about this in their monthly trade union magazine. Even at Precinct One, she had seen it - the third small mammal to join them, a coati, had called it quits a few weeks ago after having suffered a nervous breakdown. Being forced to deal with the aftermath of a violent family dispute which resulted in three dead mammals, with two of them being torn to shreds, had just been to much for the young mammal to bear. "Do you really think telling the recruits what they're in for will change anything about this?"

"No idea. Probably not." He nodded towards Grizzoli as they were walking past him. "Let's go home, Carrots! Time's a wastin', and I still need to get something on the table for Billy and KayDee."

For a split second, Judy wanted to disagree, wanted to stay and offer assistance, but she realized he was right. They were off-duty, they had no business staying there, and if any of this would become a case of theirs, they would know soon enough. She put on a smile. "I never thought you would take these household obligations so seriously."

"Come on, Fluff! I'm the only one of us who can distinguish the good end of the stirring spoon from the bad one!"

* * *

 **So Judy's quite cross with Izzy at the moment - and I can't help but think it won't improve in a hurry …**

 **I guess you'll have no difficulties telling me which movie I'm referring to in here, right?**

 **Well, that's it for the moment! Thanks for reading, and if you could send a review my way, my eternal gratitude is yours!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	20. Chapter 20 - Mors Certa

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **Before I started writing this chapter, I was quite concerned that it would take me a while to complete it. While I had always known it would be quite short, I thought that the necessary research would take ages.**

 **I was wrong!**

 **Welcome to the next installment of "Hammer!"**

 **These are the current stats: More then 27,100 views, 200 reviews, 151 favorites, and 237 alerts. Thanks to all of you for these figures!**

 **Thanks also to my faithful reviewers: GhostWolf88, Combat Engineer, DirtKid123, J Shute Norway, and one anonymous guest. The last one probably is the same guy I talked about in chapter eleven, the one who wrote a few comments in what I assume is Spanish. Sorry, but my abilities at understanding Spanish haven't improved - they're still non-existent! You obviously know English well enough to understand my stories, so please, PLEASE, write in English next time, okay? I'd like to respond to you but can't, since I have no idea what you wrote! And I still don't trust Google Translate!**

 **And yet another chapter that's heavy on the medical stuff. Before you get any wrong ideas though, it's not exactly necessary to understand all of it. I'm pretty sure you'll get the gist of it anyway.**

 **And that's all I have to say at the moment - one of my shortest author's note to date, and also one of my shortest chapters. So let's cut to the chase, shall we?**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Twenty

 **Mors Certa**

 _Dying time is here!_

Metallica: "Damage, Inc." (Written by James Hetfield, Lars Ulrich, Cliff Burton, and Kirk Hammett, from the album "Master of Puppets," Elektra, 1986)

* * *

Since it was the biggest hospital in all of Zootopia, the staffing level of Zootopia General was big enough to deal with even the most severe accidents, the highest number of injured mammals, the most grievous injuries. It's equipment was more than capable of coping with everything life-threatening you could imagine. Particularly after the latest refurbishment, the hospital itself was prepared to withstand any catastrophe imaginable.

In theory.

In reality, however, things never looked that pretty, never went that smoothly.

Nothing could have shouted this fact out to the world more clearly than the aftermath of the cheetah's attack at the kindergarten.

It was pandemonium. With just eighteen injured mammals, the emergency department seemed to be on the brink of collapse.

The reason was simple: Sixteen of the injured mammals were children, and four of them had suffered injuries so bad, their survival was highly unlikely.

Nobody liked dealing with stuff like that.

Which of course meant that every mammal working in the emergency rooms was tied up in knots.

It simply didn't matter how experienced you were, Zachary Pawson thought as he was walking towards the last emergency room, seeing stuff like that simply freaked you out.

If he was honest with himself, he was feeling quite tense himself.

Because in the room he was walking to, the reason for all this was lying, heavily sedated, but heavily injured as well.

In need of medical care.

Not for the first time in his career, Pawson had to remind himself that even the most vicious criminal in need of medical treatment deserved to be treated with the same respect as every other mammal in need of help.

Schooling his features into a mask of confidence, he opened the door leading to the room. "Talk to me, Nathan," he said while entering.

The physician in charge was a wallaby by the name of Nathan Pickett. Despite having joined Zootopia General only four months ago, he had already garnered a reputation of almost infallible competence. Pawson had worked with him several times, both in surgery as well as in the usual medical care outside the operating theater, and he had learned to respect the young mammal's abilities and to value his opinion highly.

"Thoracic radiography shows nine broken ribs." Pickett's voice was all business. "Traumatic pneumothorax on both lungs. Both _maxillae_ are broken, and so are both nasal and lacrimal bones. Mandible is shattered into seven distinct pieces. Left zygomatic bone looks to be almost pulverized, and her left eye seems to be a lost cause - a bone fragment went right through the sclera and into the vitreous chamber. We're looking at a possible craniocerebral trauma, although I didn't find any intracerebral hemorrhages. Thankfully, she's been heavily sedated by the paramedics, so brain swelling shouldn't be much of a problem right now. But without immediate surgery, chances of survival are slim."

"What about the hemogram? Any news on that front?"

"None so far. Why?"

"Because it's possible we're looking at the results of exposure to essence of _Midnicampum holicithias_."

"Nighthowlers?" Pickett sounded dubious. "You sure? There's no stain and no smell."

"You know how _Midnicampum holicithias_ smells?"

"I do. One of my professors at Zoo U presented us with one flower during a lecture about natural toxins and antidotes. I was sitting in, oh, I don't know, maybe the seventh row, and I was still able to smell it. The stench was out of this world. In the first row, a few guys had to leave - it made 'em sick." He pointed at the cheetah. "All I can smell on her is some cheap perfume."

Pawson nodded. His nose had already made out the slightly repulsive odor filling the ER room. "I'll never understand why someone would willingly splash something like that on themselves."

Pickett gave a slight smile. "Tell me about it. You still believe it's been Nighthowlers?"

"Do you have a better explanation for her behavior?"

"Not really."

"That's what I thought. We have the Nighthowler antidote, I presume?" This he said to one of the nurses, a female koala.

"Plenty of it, Doctor Pawson," the woman replied.

"Good. Well, no good wasting more time. Take her to OP theater four. I'll deal with this personally."

"Right away, sir." The koala went to the bed immediately, started preparing it for the transfer to the operation theater.

"You're coming with me, Nathan. Have you ever had to do surgery on so many fractured facial bones?"

"Not so far. Never saw that many injuries in a mammal that was still alive. Must have been one hell of a kick."

"A kick?"

"According to the paramedics who brought her here, the fox who took her down kicked her in the face while she was running towards him at top speed."

"Ouch! That must have been painful!"

"With certainty. But it seems that she just shook it off. Just as she seemed to have shaken off this one." He raised his paw, showing a hypodermic needle. "We found this embedded in her left _latissimus dorsi_ , just below the scapula. It belongs to a tranquilizing dart. The rest of it must have broken off at some point. Markings on the needle indicate they used a Class 2 tranquilizing dart."

"A Class 2 dart? And it didn't bring her down?"

"Obviously not."

"Damn! Certainly never heard that one before!"

"I guess nobody has." Pickett placed the needle on an empty tray, then he jumped towards the door to open it and allow the koala to push the bed through. Pawson joined him, and they followed the nurse as she pushed the bed towards the assigned operation theater. "It's a miracle she's still alive."

"So, we better make sure she stays that way." After having worked with Pickett for two months, Pawson had gotten used to talking to a mammal who was jumping instead of walking.

"Would be a damn shame otherwise."

"Blood pressure and heart rate?"

"Both significantly elevated. Some 180 to 100, and heart rate never dropped lower than 150."

"Thought so. Adrenaline probably is through the roof."

"Probably."

"How did the fox bring her down?"

"He strangled her with his belt." Pickett pointed at the cheetah's neck, which showed the first signs of heavy bruises. "Choked her until she fell unconscious."

"Unbe-frickin'-lievable!"

"I'd love to meet that fox! That guy deserves a medal."

They had hardly reached the operation theater when the door was opened from the inside, allowing them to enter. Three nurses and an intern were already present, all of them clad in clean scrubs, wearing surgical masks over their muzzles.

Once they had gotten themselves cleaned and prepped for surgery, they got to work immediately. Pickett started dealing with the damaged rib cage while Pawson was tending to the injuries to the cheetah's face. Even before he started cutting into the tissue with his scalpel, he knew that the prospect wasn't good. Even if they were able to make sure she would survive, there was no chance in hell for them to ever reconstruct the face to its former condition. Regardless of how this would turn out, Pawson saw a lot of plastic surgery in the cheetah's future. And a lot of liquid food.

"Blood pressure?" he asked as he was carefully removing bone fragments stuck in the nasal mucous membrane.

"Steady at 180 to 110," the intern, a warthog, said.

"Heart rate?"

"Stable at about 160."

"Damn! That's way too high for a sedated cheetah! Better make sure she doesn't wake up!"

"I have an infusion of ketamine and medetomidine prepped and ready, just in case."

"Good. Watch those figures!"

He was just in the process of removing the last bone fragments when the door to the room opened to reveal a female musk deer. Pawson knew the mammal worked in the hospital's lab, but he couldn't remember her name. Not that he really tried to - he had work to do, and while he was the Chief of Medicine of Zootopia General, he was by no means the guy responsible for its staff. And with hundreds of employees working for the hospital, it was virtually impossible to know every single one of them by name.

But he knew why she was here. "You got something for me?" he asked without looking at her.

"If you're asking for the full blood analysis, Doctor" the musk deer said, "I don't have it yet. I just came here to tell you one thing."

"Which is?"

"We found traces of Nighthowler poison in her blood."

Pawson stopped what he was doing and looked up at the musk deer. "You did?"

"The Badger test turned as red as a fire alarm."

After the team of Doctor Peralta had managed to create an antidote for the Nighthowler poison, they had tried to come up with a quick and reliable method of detecting traces of Nighthowler poison in blood samples. Doctor Badger had proposed a test method similar to the litmus test, a piece of paper covered in a chemical substance that changed its color after being exposed to the Nighthowler poison. And although the whole team of scientist had been involved in creating the test, it had been named after Doctor Badger, to honor the original idea. The test itself had proven to be exactly what it was supposed to be - it delivered very fast results, and those were extremely accurate. Even tiniest amounts of Nighthowler poison, down to ten parts per billion, were enough to trigger the chemical reaction.

Pawson continued removing bone fragments out of the cheetah's face. "So this Ramses guy found a way to make the poison color- and odorless?"

"Looks like it."

Pawson shot a look at the koala nurse. "Prepare the antidote, please!"

"You want to administer it now?" Pickett asked.

"Of course. When we administered it to the first savage mammals, we sedated them first, because we were afraid of adverse reactions. But there were none. The antidote neutralized the poison without any noticeable side effects, the sedation wore off, the mammals fell asleep and awoke two days later, fully cured. Worked like a charm. And it would take care of the abnormal vital signs, which would help us deal with surgery here. I'm still concerned that she might wake up at one point."

"You got it, boss."

With deft digits, the koala prepared a syringe with the Nighthowler antidote. Looking at Pawson, who nodded, she attached the syringe to the access port in the primary tubing of the IV drips' peripheral line and proceeded to press the plunger.

"Spike!" the warthog intern shouted.

Pawson's head shot up. "What?"

"Blood pressure 220/140, climbing! Heart rate is … damn it! 240! Now 260!"

On the operating table, the cheetah started trembling, then she convulsed.

And after a sound which reminded Pawson of a balloon bursting, a fountain of blood gushed from the open rib cage, missing Pickett and the nurse next to him by just a few inches.

With a sudden finality, the cheetah's body fell back onto the operating table.

The heart rate monitor showed a flatline.

All actions around the operating table ceased.

After a few seconds, the intern shouted: "Get the defibrillator!"

"Forget it!" Pickett leaned forward to look past the rib fragments, pushing muscle and lung tissue aside. "There's no heart anymore."

"What?" Pawson said.

"Heart just burst. No defibrillator in the world's going to bring her back."

Pawson just stared at him, not quite believing what he had just heard.

"Oh dear!" the koala said. "I killed her!"

Pawson pulled himself together. "No, you did not. It was my call, it is my responsibility. Time of death?"

The intern looked at the clock. "21 minutes past one pm."

Pawson closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. It wasn't the first time a patient had died while he had performed surgery, not by a long shot. Sometimes these things just happened, despite his best efforts. And so far, he had never had the feeling that he had failed his patients. Whenever somebody had died during surgery, there never had been anything he could have done to prevent it.

This time, however, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed the cheetah. He had tried his utmost to save her, but he had failed.

But why had he failed?

What had killed her?

He opened his eyes again, looking at Pickett. "Prepare her for transport to the ZPD's forensics lab. Maybe Doctor Peralta can tell me what just happened."

* * *

 **Yeah, what did just happen? Stay tuned to find out …**

 **The chapter's title, by the way, is the first part of a Latin proverb, "Mors certa, hora incerta." (Death is certain, the hour is not.) But it seems like dying time is here …**

 **The term "litmus test" is commonly used in politics nowadays, but its origin, in case you didn't know, is chemistry. Litmus is a substance which changes color when exposed to acidic or alkaline (basic) substances. (Blue litmus paper turns red under acidic condition, whereas red litmus paper turns blue under alkaline conditions.) Got the idea when remembering my old chemistry lessons in school. (And before you ask, I was a horrible student, but that one I remembered.)**

 **Now, all the medical stuff I wrote about here is the result of some very thorough research. For instance, I looked up the vital statistics for cheetahs to present you with scientifically correct values here. However, the fact remains that I'm no doctor of medicine, no vet, no paramedic. Which means it's quite possible that I made a few mistakes here and there. If I did, please tell me about it, so I can make the necessary corrections. Thanks in advance!**

 **Since I was so busy with researching the stuff, I didn't bother hiding quotes in here. In case you found some, give me a shout, and you'll receive a honorific mention in the next chapter!**

 **Well, another chapter done and dusted! Thank you for reading, and please, send me your reviews!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	21. Chapter 21 - An Expert Opinion

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **And yet another chapter that's quite heavy on medicine. But the stuff I talk about in here is essential to the story, so please, bear with me!**

 **I'm looking at these stats right now: The story was read almost 27,600 times, I received 213 reviews, 151 favorites and 238 alerts. As always, I bow down in gratitude!**

 **And these are the dedicated mammals who bestowed their wisdom upon me: GhostWolf88, PrincessRainbowSparkles, Dirtkid123, Combat Engineer, HawkTooth, Matri, Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps, gistech, and DrummerMax64. Thanks to you, my friends!**

 **Both HawkTooth and DrummerMax64 came across the movie reference in chapter 19. I was, of course, referring to the infamous horror movie "The Shining" by Stanley Kubrick, with the line "All work and no play makes Nick a dull boy" and the reference to an axe. Good work, you two! (HawkTooth even told me he grew up near the hotel where the movie was made and went there a couple of times. I'm sort of envious, you know …)**

 **DrummerMax also pointed "Eat my shorts!" out as a "The Simpsons" reference. Terribly sorry, but as unbelievable as it may sound, I never watched "The Simpsons." I can't even say why, but I never liked the series, so watching it always seemed like little more than a waste of time. While I do know some clichés and catchphrases which stem from the series, simply because they're common knowledge by now ("D'oh!"), I had no idea that "Eat my shorts!" is one of Bart's signature catchphrases. I just wanted a catchy alternative to the much more common "Kiss my ass!" line, and my online dictionary offered "Eat my shorts!" as a suitable one. And that honestly is all there is to it. Sorry, DrummerMax, no points this time! (Insert evil laughter here!)**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One

 **An Expert Opinion**

 _Your story's so touching, but it sounds just like a lie._

The King Cole Trio: "Straighten Up and Fly Right" (Written by Nat King Cole and Irving Mills, released as a single, Capitol Records, 1943)

* * *

Adrian Bogo dropped the last file onto his desktop and shook his head. He had asked every officer who had responded to the incident at the kindergarten to file a preliminary report, but as it turned out, none of them had been able to give him anything worth mentioning. All of their reports were, ultimately, little more than useless.

Leads: zero. Clues: zero. Eye witnesses: zero.

His officers weren't to blame, he knew that. Each and every one of them had tried their utmost to find clues, to find witnesses, to shed a light on what had happened, but nobody had had any success. They had all arrived too late, long after the damage had been done, long after all the possible witnesses had left the scene. At the moment, Bogo's only hope was that some of the witnesses would make contact with them, giving them a full account of what had happened. And that hope wasn't exactly high.

And the only officers who might have been able to give him something tangible were out for the count at the moment.

Automatically, Bogo lunged for his phone and dialed the number of Zootopia General Hospital. After a few seconds, the phone was picked up.

" _Zootopia General Hospital, my name's Marietta Cervo. How may I be of assistance?_ "

Bogo cleared his throat. "I'm Chief Bogo, ZPD. Good afternoon! There are two of my officers receiving treatment in your hospital right now. Can you tell me who the doctor responsible for their treatment is, and could you please patch me through to that mammal, ma'am, if he's available? I just want to know how they are."

" _Of course, sir. One second_." Bogo heard her make a few entries on a computer keyboard. " _That would be Doctor Randall Antidorcas. Let me see if he has time._ "

Bogo had to wait for almost a minute, listening to Cervo making a few intercom calls. Even before she returned to the phone, Bogo knew he would be out of luck here as well.

" _Terribly sorry, Chief, but Doctor Antidorcas is busy at the moment. However, he told me to tell you that surgery on Officer, hang on, Officer MacIntyre was successful. He'll make a full recovery, but he has to stay here for the time being_."

"Of course. What about Officer Hefner?"

" _Same deal. She'll recover just fine, but Doctor Antidorcas is fairly certain she'll be in need of some extensive counseling_."

Bogo nodded. No surprise there. Experiencing something like that on the very first day on the job would have rattled everybody severely. Bogo wasn't known for being overly compassionate when it came to dealing with rookies, but he could only feel sorry for the poor girl. "Can you tell me when she'll be released from hospital?"

" _Tomorrow, according to the Doctor. However, he doesn't think she'll be fit for duty any time soon. Not without counseling, that is_."

"Understood. Anything new on the savage cheetah?"

" _Uh, to be honest, I haven't heard anything. But_ …" She interrupted herself. " _Wait a second. Doctor, where are you going?_ "

Another mammal could be heard, a male one, but he was talking so softly, Bogo wasn't able to understand even one single word. " _Oh my!_ " Cervo exclaimed, adding a few seconds later: " _I've got Chief Bogo on the line here. You wanna …_ "

There was a bit of rustling, then the male voice spoke up, loud and strong. " _Chief Bogo? Zachary Pawson here_."

"Oh. Doctor Pawson. Aren't you …"

Pawson interrupted him rather rudely. " _If you wanna ask me why I'm no longer tending to the patients, well, I have suspended myself from office_."

Whatever Bogo had expected, this wasn't it. "What? Why?"

Pawson heaved a sigh. " _Because it is my fault that the savage cheetah is no longer with us_."

Bogo flinched. "She died?"

"She did indeed."

Bogo closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The medics tending to Fitzinger had told him that, considering her numerous injuries, her old life was definitely over - it would take the doctors years to rebuild her face so that she would be able to lead a somewhat normal life again. One had even mentioned that, in case there was brain damage, it might be possible that she would not survive this. Still, hearing of her death …

 _Godspeed, Carrie! I hope you're at a better place now!_

" _Chief?_ " Pawson asked.

Bogo pulled himself together. "Sorry, Doctor. Just didn't like hearing that kind of news. What happened?"

" _We're not exactly sure. During surgery, one of the lab assistants told us that they found the Nighthowler poison in the cheetah's blood. Hearing that, I decided to administer the antidote on the spot, particularly since we had enormous problems keeping her vitals in check. Which was a mistake on my part. For whatever reason, the antidote caused a massive increase in heart rate and blood pressure, so much that her heart wasn't able to cope with it and simply burst_."

"Her heart _burst_?"

" _Yes. Almost instantly. The antidote hit her system, she was dead five seconds later_."

Bogo made a frown. Why was this sounding familiar?

Pawson continued: " _And since I made that call, I have to take full responsibility. Which is why I have suspended myself. It was a grave professional mistake on my part_."

"And what happens now?"

" _Well, the last thing I did in my line of duty was to give orders to take the cheetah's corpse to your forensics lab. Maybe Doctor Peralta will be able to tell us what happened_."

Bogo nodded. That had been the most logical, the only thing to do, particularly in regards of the fact that MacIntyre would be facing a disciplinary hearing afterwards. Not that the outcome would cause any harm to the fox - he had acted in self-defense, that one was obvious, and he had done so in spectacular fashion. And the injuries to the cheetah, while certainly sad and regrettable, had just been a logical consequence. "That's not what I meant. What'll happen to _you_?"

Pawson was quite a well-known figure at the ZPD. As the Chief Surgeon of Zootopia General, he had been responsible for patching up most officers at one point or another. Pawson had cut three bullets out of Bogo's abdomen once, Clawhauser still felt indebted to him for saving his leg, and Major Mastiff had been under Pawson's knife so often, they were on first name terms by now. His reputation had been so outstanding that the board of directors had made him Chief of Medicine, and nobody had ever questioned that decision. He had saved the lives of so many officers in the past, losing him would not only deal Zootopia General a hefty blow, but the ZPD as well.

" _No idea. I made a terrible mistake, and I have only myself to blame for it. That's why I suspended myself. The Medical Council will take care of the rest. I screwed up badly here, I have to face the music_."

Bogo shook his head. "On behalf of myself and the whole ZPD, let me just tell you that we wish you all the best of luck."

" _Thanks, Chief! You'll hear from me, I hope_."

"Looking forward to it, Doctor."

" _And if not, well, you know. Take care!_ "

"You too, Doctor."

There was more rustling, then the dispatcher was on the line again, obviously not exactly sure what to say or do. "Uhm, er, Chief, is there anything else?"

"I don't think so. Can you keep me posted on any new developments?"

"Uh, I'd rather not, Chief. That's not part of my job description. Why don't you just give us another call later, when the dust has settled?"

"I will do that. Have a nice day." Bogo disconnected without waiting for a reply, then he leaned back in his chair and heaved a sigh.

This had certainly been about the most unwelcome piece of news he had received in a long time!

What was more, with what the horse had been saying during the informal press conference, Bogo couldn't shake the feeling that there was something brewing underneath all the obvious things.

Something quite ugly.

He was interrupted in his musings by a knock to the door. "Enter!" he shouted.

The door opened to reveal Armando Peralta, ZPDs forensic scientist. "Have a few minutes, Chief?"

Bogo looked down at his desk. "Looks like it."

"Good." Peralta entered the room. "Just received a call from Zootopia General. They'll be sending an ex-cheetah my way, but nobody would give me any details. Just wanted to let you know, in case you …"

Bogo interrupted him. "I know. Her name's Carrie Fitzinger, she is - _was_ \- a kindergarten teacher, and it seems like she turned savage amidst the children."

Peralta stared at him. "Beg your pardon?"

"You didn't hear the news?"

"No. I was quite busy with … she turned _savage_?"

"That's what they told me. Ripped seven mammals to pieces, injured eighteen more. It took one of our best martial artist experts to take her down, and she managed to break several of his ribs, when even Delgato wasn't able to touch him while sparring."

"Let me guess, it was that new fox kid, er, what was his name?"

"Rocky MacIntyre, and yes, it was him. You heard what he's capable of?"

"Well, the grapevine's been humming. Why didn't he just shoot the cheetah with a tranq dart."

"He did, or rather, his partner did. Seems like she just shook it off."

"The dosage must have …"

"Doctor, they shot her with a _red_ tranq dart."

"Ah. So that's why she died."

"No. Like I said, she just shook it off. MacIntyre had to choke her until she was unconscious."

Peralta sat down on the chair. "How is this possible?"

"I hope you'll be able to tell me, once you have performed the autopsy."

"How did she die?"

"No idea. They told me that they found Nighthowler poison in her blood, so Doctor Pawson administered the antidote. Which obviously was a bad idea, because it killed her."

"How?"

"Heart rate and blood pressure went through the roof. Her heart simply burst."

"Her heart … wait a second! That's how Mrs. Cinerea died!"

Bogo sat up straighter. _That's_ why it had sounded familiar! "Right, I remember. Left ventricle burst, right?"

"That it did." Peralta made a pause. "What about the medication Cinerea had received? The experimental treatment to clinical depression? What if that was just a ruse?"

Bogo narrowed his eyes. "You mean what if she was simply poisoned with a new kind of Nighthowler poison, one that we cannot detect anymore?"

"That's what I mean. What if Ramses was successful?"

"And what if he made the new poison react badly to the antidote, killing the victim in the process?"

"It would mean the antidote is no longer a viable method of treatment."

Bogo snorted. "And that's the mother of all understatements!"

Peralta pondered on this. "What if we're looking at the very same thing here? What if the cheetah was shot with a new kind of Nighthowler poison which killed her when the antidote was applied?"

"You need to look into this, Armando."

"It certainly seems so. But damn! That would be some bad …"

Right at this moment, Bogo's phone rang. Frowning, he picked it up. "ZPD, Chief Bogo."

" _Hello, AJ. This is your favorite DA speaking_."

Bogo smiled. "Andy! Good afternoon! How are you?"

A few years ago, Bogo would certainly not have talked to Andrew Horner in such a casual manner. As Zootopia's District Attorney, it was one of Horner's numerous responsibilities to issue search and arrest warrants against mammals who were suspicious of major crimes against Zootopia as a whole or against its citizens. As such, he should have been an important ally to the ZPD. After the Savage Predators case, however, he had found himself at odds with Bogo, when he had refused to issue a search warrant against the company of a councilmammal. Bogo had literally hustled him to give him the warrant, and Horner had - very reluctantly - given in, fearing a lot of nasty repercussions.

Repercussions that had never manifested themselves.

That had been the turning point. As nasty as the event itself had been, it had turned the rather awkward working relationship between the two of them into a highly fruitful one. From that moment on, whenever Bogo or some other ZPD officers had approached Horner in need of his assistance, he had at once, and gladly, provided it. And the success had proven everybody right. By now, Horner was commonly considered an incorruptible, tough-as-nails DA who would stop at nothing to make sure criminals were brought to justice. Which made him a kindred spirit to Bogo. And over time, their personal relationship had eased to a point where they had started addressing each other by their first names. Bogo wouldn't necessarily have called Horner a friend of his, but he considered him to be a strong ally, so being on friendly terms was him was just a logical consequence.

" _I'm probably better than you are_ ," Horner replied, his voice unusually grim. " _My secretary told me there was an incident at the Montessowri Kindergarten, right?_ "

"There was indeed. A savage cheetah who killed …"

" _Do you know that the cheetah in question's dead?_ "

Bogo stared at Peralta in puzzlement. "Yeah, I just learned of it, but how do you know? To the best of my knowledge, it has not been revealed to the public yet."

"Can't have been," Peralta said. "According to the guys from Zootopia General, she died," he checked his wristwatch, "less than an hour ago."

" _Who's there?_ " Horner asked.

"That's Doctor Peralta, our forensics expert," Bogo said. "He'll perform an autopsy on the cheetah as soon as her corpse has arrived here. Wait." He switched his phone to open listening. "He can hear you now."

" _Less than an hour ago, you said?_ "

Peralta nodded. "At 1321, to be precise. No way this could have made the news that fast."

" _Are you sure that no pressmammal_ …"

Bogo interrupted him. "No pressmammal will have entered the hospital. At this moment, five of my officers are standing guard at Zootopia General to make sure nobody will be able to interfere."

" _Well, then it seems there is a news leak at Zoo Gen itself_."

"What do you mean?"

" _See for yourself. Homepage of The Sun. You can't miss it_."

"The Sun? You read that wretched paper?"

" _I try not to, but sometimes I need to_."

Bogo opened his notebook to log onto The Sun's homepage. And when it appeared on the screen, his jaw dropped.

 ** _BREAKING NEWS_**

 ** _SAVAGE CHEETAH DIES DURING SURGERY_**

 _By Damdin Takhi_

 _Even more bad news from Zootopia General Hospital. As if it hadn't been enough that a female cheetah killed at least seven mammals in a savage fit at Montessowri Kindergarten in Savanna Central today, it has been brought to our attention by well-informed circles that the mammal responsible, the kindergarten teacher Carrie F., 52, has died during surgery._

 _"_ _Her whole face had been bashed in by the police officer who tried to subdue her," one eye witness reports. "Clear case of police brutality, if you ask me. She needed surgery, so our Chief Surgeon tried to save her. But then he decided to give her the Nighthowler antidote. And that one killed her immediately."_

 _Further reports claim that the surgeon responsible for this gross professional misjudgment has been suspended from office immediately._

 _"_ _She wasn't poisoned," another witness states. "No, she had just snapped, no idea why. Giving her the antidote was crazy, a stupid mistake! He should never have done this!"_

 _After the cheetah's attack on harmless children, even Chief Adrian Bogo, 51, of ZPDs Precinct One stated that there was no evidence that the cheetah had been poisoned by the infamous Nighthowler serum. While he said that he "cannot rule out this possibility" of Nighthowler poisoning, he admitted that there have been no signs of it "that we were able to see."_

Peralta, who had leaned forward to read the article himself, asked: "Wait a second, Adrian. Didn't you just tell me they found Nighthowler poison in her blood?"

"That's what Doctor Pawson told me," Bogo replied.

"This sounds like there was none to be found in the cheetah's blood."

" _Sure seems like it_." Horner gave a funny sound between a snort and a hiss. " _You haven't even seen the best part yet_."

"What do you mean?" Bogo asked.

" _Scroll down. There's a little movie which, I think, will be most interesting to you_."

Bogo did and came across a video still that showed a male chamois in his late fifties. The caption under the video read: "Roger Jaspers, M.D., talking about the Nighthowler antidote."

"Roger Jaspers? Never heard that name," Peralta said.

" _Seems like he's a doctor from Swinss. Works at one of their local hospitals_ ," Horner explained.

"Ah. What's he doing here?"

" _I guess it's more important what he does, not why he's here_."

Bogo snorted. "Do I really need to watch this?"

" _You should, Adrian, believe me_."

"Alright." Bogo clicked the video still, which turned out to be an interview.

The setting was quite informal - there was a building in the background, but Bogo was unable to tell where the mammal was standing. He was looking past the camera, obviously at a person who wasn't in the frame. This person said: " _Ladies and Gentlemammals, I'm here at the Albert Weinstein College of Medicine, where a medical convention is taking place. My guest is Doctor Roger Jaspers, a chemical scientist from Bawsel, Swinss, who's here to conduct a symposium on neurotoxins._ _Thank you, Doctor Jaspers, for your willingness to answer a few questions._ "

" _No problem, Mr. Takhi_." The chamois's voice was rather high-pitched, but completely unremarkable, apart from a very faint accent. His face showed a benevolent smile.

" _Now, as a chemical scientist_ ," the other mammal said, " _what is your take on this latest case of purported Nighthowler poisoning?_ "

Jaspers shook his head. " _I do not believe for even one second that there was Nighthowler poison involved_."

" _What do you mean?_ "

" _It should be obvious. The cheetah died during surgery. If I understand it correctly, she died when she was administered the Nighthowler antidote_."

" _That is what our sources claim. So?_ "

" _Well, you must understand that most antidotes are poisons, too. For instance, soldiers receive little autoinjectors containing atropine, among other substances, before they go to battle. Should they be exposed to weapons of chemical warfare, to nerve gases like sarin or VX, they use these autoinjectors to administer a few milliliters of atropine. This counteracts the effects of the nerve gases, making sure the mammal survives. With me so far?_ "

" _I am_."

" _Good. Now, atropine is, first and foremost, a poison you can find in certain plants like belladonna, mandrake, or devil's snare. While it certainly works against nerve gases, the fact remains that it is a poison. And when you overdose on it, it will kill you with utmost certainty_."

" _So you are saying that the Nighthowler antidote is a poison, too?_ "

" _It definitely is. When it is administered to a mammal suffering from Nighthowler poisoning, it is highly effective, and if it has side effects, of which I am not entirely certain, those are certainly outweighed by their usefulness. However, when the mammal is healthy, it will have no positive effect. To the contrary, it will kill the unfortunate mammal_."

" _So that is why you think the cheetah couldn't have been poisoned with Nighthowlers?_ "

" _That is exactly what I'm saying, yes_."

" _Thank you for your time, Doctor Jaspers!_ "

" _It was a pleasure, Mr. Takhi_."

With that, the short video ended.

Peralta snorted. "Well, that was certainly enlightening." His tone suggested that he thought the video had been everything but.

" _What do you mean?_ " Horner asked over the phone.

"Almost every chemical substance on this planet is poisonous when you overdose on it. Look at cooking salt. It is essential to the mammal body - if you don't get it, you may lapse into a coma. It's cheap, it's very common, you'll find it in every kitchen on the planet. Completely harmless. But take too much of it, your body won't like it very much. A lot of mammals suffering from cardiovascular diseases overdose on cooking salt on a regular basis."

" _So your Nighthowler antidote is a poison, too, Doctor?_ "

Peralta scratched his head. "You can bet it is, but I'm afraid I can't tell you just how toxic it really is."

" _You don't know?_ "

"We never tested it on a mammal that wasn't poisoned with Nighthowlers, so I can't make any qualified judgment on just how dangerous it is when taken without the need for it. But it consists of quite a lot of chemical agents, some of which, when overdosed, are highly poisonous. So I'd say the end result is highly poisonous as well."

Peralta made a pause. "But what I don't understand is why that guy, whoever he is, is here in Zootopia right now."

" _What do you mean?_ "

"There is no medical convention taking place at the Albert Weinstein College right now."

" _Are you sure?_ "

"Yes, I am. I happen to be one of the mammals who helps organizing the annual convention which takes place there."

" _Maybe the place_ …"

"No, Mr. Horner. There is not a single medical convention taking place in Zootopia at this very moment - the next one is in six weeks. I know that, because I will be a guest speaker."

" _So you're saying that this_ …"

"It's a fake," Bogo said.

"It certainly seems so," Peralta said.

"It cannot be anything else but a fake. I don't need to know that there is no medical convention taking place here right now to be able to tell that one." Bogo pointed at the screen. "The cheetah died one hour ago. In that little time, this Takhi, whoever he is, managed …"

" _He's the guy who drilled you with all that questions at the kindergarten_ ," Horner said.

"He is? I didn't know who that guy was?"

Horner snorted. " _Takhi's one of the worst troublemakers this city has ever seen. Whenever there's some sensationalistic story going around, you can bet he has his dirty hooves in it. Back when Takhi was still working for the Zootopia Tribune, he wanted to make believe that Cameron Caballus was a child molester. Fortunately for Caballus, that one backfired badly_."

"What happened?"

" _Well, the so-called victim Takhi presented the public with turned out to be a hired actress. That was enough for the Tribune's editor-in-chief to give him the boot. He's with The Sun now. A match made in hell, if you ask me_."

"Interesting. Anyway, this Takhi not only learned that the cheetah died, he also had the time to write an article on the subject _and_ managed to find an expert on the subject who was able to tell him exactly what he wanted to hear. Just how probable do you think this is?"

" _Particularly since it fits so well to the questions he asked you, Adrian_ ," Horner stated.

"My thoughts exactly."

"So you think this doctor is fake as well?" Peralta asked.

"No idea. Seems like he knew his stuff, but a good actor should be able to pull that one off. In the end, it doesn't even matter. He certainly serves the purpose."

"Which is?"

"Telling the people of Zootopia that there is no Nighthowler poisoning."

" _Which in turn means there probably is_ ," Horner said.

"Which in turn means that this Takhi is in league with the people behind all this," Bogo said with a nod.

Peralta got up. "In other words, you need me to find the smoking gun."

"So we can put a stop to it before it gets out of hoof."

"I'm on it." Peralta turned around and left the office.

" _And what do we do with Takhi?_ " Horner asked.

Bogo narrowed his eyes. "Right now, I can do nothing. I have a suspicion, that's all. If I act on it, every lawyer will read me the riot act, and rightfully so. I need something tangible, which I don't have at the moment. But I will keep a close eye on this, believe me."

" _You better. Keep me posted, will you?_ "

"Certainly. Have a nice day." Bogo disconnected and leaned back in his chair. "Something is rotten in the state of Zootopia," he said to no one in particular.

* * *

 **Again, not much action here, but a lot of quite nasty repercussions. And Pawson sure is a poor fellow, ain't he?**

 **In case you wanna know more about Zootopia's District Attorney, Andrew Horner, just look the guy up yourself - "How to Treat a Festering Wound," chapters 6 and 11.**

 **Albert Weinstein is an obvious pun on the mighty Einstein. By the way, "Weinstein" is the German word for cream of tartar, commonly known as winestone.**

 **"** **Bawsel, Swinss" is my version of the Swiss town of Basel, the third-largest Swiss town. The name "Roger Jaspers" is an amalgamation of two people closely connected to Basel, professional tennis player Roger Federer, who was born there, and Karl Jaspers, a world-famous psychiatrist and philosopher. Born in Oldenburg, Germany (which is quite close to where I live, actually), in 1883, he was married to Gertrud Mayer, a woman of Jewish heritage, which caused the Nazis to put a lot of pressure on him. He was banished from teaching and wasn't allowed to publish books, but he was able to continue his research. Friends of his offered enough protection for him and his wife to stay in Germany until after World War II, which is when he relocated to Basel. He later became a naturalized Swiss citizen and died in Basel in 1969, three days after his 86th birthday.**

 **There's one rather obvious Shakespeare quote in here. That one should be a pushover!**

 **I also added a reference to a song from Linkin Park in here. Should also be quite easy.**

 **But in case you're wondering, no, the plants I mention in this chapter are no sly reference to Harry Potter. It just so happens that all the plants J.K. Rowling mentions in the Harry Potter series (particularly mandrake or devil's snare) are real - they belong to the nightshade family and produce atropine. The stuff I mention about atropine being an antidote to neurotoxins and in use by soldiers during wartime is true as well - I learned about this way back when I was a soldier myself. One of my comrades, who thought he was really clever, even picked the berries from a belladonna shrub and ate them, completely ignoring the fact that they contain quite the potent poison - and it's not that our drill instructors hadn't told us. Well, stupid is as stupid does, I guess … (And no, this isn't a hidden quote either.)**

 **Thanks for reading, and if you could find the time and let me know what you think of this, I'd be grateful!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	22. Chapter 22 - Into Higher Gear

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **It may be quite unusual for me, but this will be a really short chapter. I wanted to do this one later actually, as part of a much larger chapter, but the reviews I received made it obvious that I needed to get this one out much earlier than originally intended. So let's get crackin'!**

 **These are the current stats: More than 27,800 views, 221 reviews, while favorites and alerts remain at 151 and 238 respectively. Thanks for your continuous support!**

 **I received reviews from GhostWolf88, one anonymous guest (Sorry, but in my opinion, death can never be a viable punishment, no matter how atrocious the crime is.), Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps, another anonymous guest (Uh … not really! By the way, I never watched Inspector Gadget.), J Shute Norway, Dirtkid123, yet another anonymous guest (Bingo!), and Combat Engineer. Thanks to all of you for spending time reading and pondering on this! You rock!**

 **The third anonymous guest (this is getting unwieldy!) found the Shakespeare quote I hid in the last chapter. I was referring, of course, to The Bard's "little pork tragedy," as the guest called it - "The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark." In Act I, Scene 4, Marcellus has this to say: "Something is rotten in the state of Denmark." I merely changed Denmark to Zootopia and gave Bogo that line. Good work, dear Guest, whoever you are!**

 **The Linkin Park reference hasn't been found yet, to my surprise! Hey, get a move on!**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two

 **Into Higher Gear**

 _Double up or quit, double stake or split._

Motörhead: "Ace of Spades" (Written by Ian Kilmister, Eddie Clarke, and Phil Taylor, from the album "Ace of Spades," Bronze/Mercury, 1980)

* * *

Sonny Coniglio was in the mood again. It was as if an invisible cloud of anger was surrounding him.

"What was that idiot thinking?" he shouted as he approached the desk behind which Moritz Kaffer was sitting. "Going public with this less than an hour after it happened? Providing an interview he can't have made in such a short amount of time? Everybody will know that this is fake!"

Kaffer looked at his old friend with a frown. "What are you talking about?"

"You haven't heard? Your friend, this Takhi guy, went public with the cheetah's death, and he provided an interview with some scientist from Swinns who told him that Nighthowlers can't have been involved."

Kaffer's face fell. "He did what?"

"Look it up!" He pointed at the computer on Kaffer's desk. "Homepage of The Sun. Can't miss it! I came here as soon as I read it."

Kaffer turned towards his computer, switched tasks and made a few entries. Reading in silence for a few seconds, he shook his head. "This is … incovenient."

" _Inconvenient?_ " Coniglio seemed to be beside himself. "He threatens to ruin our plot before it has even truly started! The ZPD will know something's not right, and if they decide to go public with this …"

"It seems like we do have a problem," Kaffer said. His voice was still calm, but a tiny edge had crept into it. He picked up his phone. "What does it say in the interview? I have not watched it yet."

"This scientist, whoever he is, just says that every antidote is a poison, and since it killed the cheetah, it's obvious that Nighthowlers weren't involved."

Kaffer made a hiss. "I told him to wait with this one!"

"You know what's in the interview?"

"Takhi told me he wanted to provide an expert on the subject, talking about the fact that Nighthowlers cannot have played a roll here. It seems like he had an actor at hoof who would be able to pull this off in a convincing fashion. While I concur with the basic idea, I thought it would be obvious that waiting with this was the smart thing to do. Especially since I also told him that there will be essence of Nighthowler found in the cheetah's blood."

"See what I mean? This idiot's ruining everything!"

Still looking at the screen, the phone pressed to his ear, Kaffer read the article again while waiting for the phone to make the connection. "This is bad! It is obvious that I need to …"

He made a pause, listening. "Mr. Takhi, it is me." He listened again. "Because you are forcing my hooves. Believe me, I would much rather jump headfirst into a dumpster than talk to you right now. What the hell were you thinking?" He paused again. "I specifically told you that there will by Nighthowler poison found in the cheetah's blood! I specifically told you to wait with publishing that interview! But not only did you not wait, you went public with both of this less than three hours after …"

"Less than one hour," Coniglio said.

Kaffer just stared at him. "Less than _one_ hour?"

Coniglio pointed at the screen again. "The article was published at five minutes past two pm, the interview a few minutes later."

Kaffer looked at the screen himself, and his eyes narrowed. "You went public with this less than one hour after the cheetah died," he said into the phone. With every word he said, the anger in his voice seemed to increase tenfold. "Everybody with a working brain will know, just by looking at these simple facts, that you are the worst liar the world has ever seen! And the most incompetent one!" He listened again. "Are you under the impression that I am interested in your apology? From this moment forth, you will only do what I tell you to do. Failing to do so will not only end in the immediate termination of our working relationship, but it will also lead to your untimely demise. Are we clear?" He disconnected without waiting for an answer and took a deep breath.

"So, what do we do now?" When Kaffer didn't respond, Coniglio continued: "AJ only needs to go public with this, and just like that, our plan goes down the drain. We'll never get the public to believe us."

"Then it is obvious that we need to prevent him from doing so," Kaffer said softly.

"Yeah, right! And how do you wanna achieve _that_?"

"By cranking up things a couple of notches." He pressed a button on his intercom. "Cynthia, I need you to find Doug Ramses and take him to me as quickly as possible. He should be in the cafeteria."

" _Of course, sir!_ " the antelope replied.

"Thank you!" Kaffer said and released the button.

"You want him to poison the next target immediately?" Coniglio asked.

"Yes, and I am also switching targets. I need one that is much closer, both emotionally and locally."

"You think it'll be enough to distract him?"

"At this stage, all I can do is hope."

Coniglio gave a hiss. "You should have killed Takhi when you had the chance."

Kaffer snorted. "At the moment, he can still be useful. But the moment his usefulness ceases to be, he will cease to be as well." He looked at Coniglio. "You need to get a move on, too."

"No shit, Shrewlock!" Coniglio got up. "Any news on the Council front?"

"It still is a work in progress, but progress has been made."

"I hope so. We need to pull out all the stops here."

"We will, Sonny. We will."

* * *

 **And that's all he wrote at the moment! Prepare for things to speed up enormously very soon!**

 **Thanks for reading, and every review is very much appreciated!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


	23. Chapter 23 - Poisoned, But Not Savage

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

 **So here it is, one of the first and therefore oldest ideas I had when I had just started making up my mind to write this story. I've been dying to write this chapter for months!**

 **As far as the stats are concerned, favorites and alerts stayed at 151 and 238 respectively, while views have crept up to more than 28,300, and I received 228 reviews. Thanks a lot for your support!**

 **I received reviews from Dirtkid123, Combat Engineer, GhostWolf88, Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps, one anonymous guest (you still weren't logged in, you know …), and DrummerMax64. Again, I wanna thank you all for your continuous support! What would I be without you?**

 **I don't know why, but my author's notes are becoming shorter lately …**

 **The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three

 **Poisoned, But Not Savage**

 _There's something wrong with the world today, I don't know what it is._

Aerosmith: "Livin' On The Edge" (Written by Steven Tyler, Joe Perry, and Mark Hudson, from the album "Get a Grip," Geffen, 1993)

* * *

For the umpteenth time that day, Chief Bogo's telephone gave its chime the buffalo had learned to loath in the meantime. Picking the phone up and suppressing the sigh that threatened to come forth, he said: "ZPD, Chief Bogo."

" _Adrian, it's Armando_."

Bogo raised an eyebrow. "You sound urgent. What's wrong?"

Doctor Peralta exhaled in a hiss. " _Just heard that you're planning to call a press conference soon_."

"I do, yes. Why?"

" _Don't! Not yet!_ "

"Why not?"

" _I found something you need to hear about at all costs!_ "

Bogo allowed himself a chuckle. "That sounds dramatic!"

Peralta countered deadpan: " _It_ is _dramatic!_ "

That sentence gave Bogo pause. He had known Armando Peralta since the giraffe had joined the ZPD thirteen years ago, but never before had he heard him talk in such an urgent tone. "You want to come over?"

" _I'll be there in two minutes!_ " With that, Peralta disconnected.

True to his word, there was a knock to Bogo's office door little less than two minutes later. Peralta walked in, a notebook under his arm, looking every bit like a mammal in very great haste.

"Alright," Bogo said instead of a greeting, "fill me in!" He pointed at the chair. "You cannot be done with the autopsy of the cheetah already, can you?"

Before sitting down, Peralta placed the notebook in front of Bogo without opening it. "I'm not done, not completely. But I found out a few things you really need to know."

"Alright, so enlighten me!"

Peralta leaned back in the chair, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I don't know exactly what happened to the cheetah, but there's one thing I can tell you with certainty: she wasn't poisoned with essence of Nighthowlers."

Bogo flinched. "Not?"

"Definitely not."

"Are you sure?"

"I compared the results of her hemogram with those we have of the old victims, the ones targeted with the old serum. And there's no chance in hell she could have been shot with something even remotely similar."

"But … Doctor Pawson told me they found Nighthowler serum in her blood."

"They did. I found it, too."

"But still you say …"

"Chief, I found less than twenty parts per billion of Nighthowler essence in her blood." Upon Bogo's incredulous stare, he added: "For every drop of Nighthowler essence I found in her blood, there are more than fifty million …"

Bogo rolled his eyes. "I know what parts per million means! What I wanna know is, is that relevant in any way, shape, or form, or is it just a number?"

"Chief, in the old victims, the ratio was at least 1000 parts per billion."

Bogo stared at him. "Are you saying that …"

Peralta interrupted him again. "Chief, the concentration of Nighthowler essence in her blood is not even close to an even slightly dangerous level."

"Are you sure? I've always been under the impression that you need only tiny amounts of Nighthowler serum to turn a mammal savage."

"1000 parts per billion _is_ a tiny amount. A very tiny amount. In your average cheetah, it would be less than 5 microliters." He made a dismissive gesture. "You don't need to believe me. I'll show you."

He opened the notebook, which had obviously been on standby, for the screen lit up immediately. But instead of a text or a picture, all Bogo got to see was a line chart with a somewhat erratic looking line going from left to right. "What's that?"

"There's a story behind this chart I need to explain to you, otherwise you won't understand this. You remember the Nighthowler Scare?"

"Dimly. After we found the reason for mammals turning savage, every time someone misbehaved, a lot of mammals believed that Nighthowlers had been involved. Right?"

"It really got out of hoof. Every week, there were at least three cases where mammals had been brought to a hospital, with those who brought them claiming they had been targeted with Nighthowler serum. So the doctors and paramedics had to perform examinations on them, which always turned out negative. These examinations took a lot of time and money. It became so annoying to those working at the hospitals, at one point a few doctors asked me if there was a fast, reliable way to tell whether they were really poisoned or not, something that wouldn't require a thorough examination and a full hemogram. Since they knew that I had led the team who found the antidote, they thought I would be the right guy for the job.

"So I called the team to help me. We discussed it for a bit, and Doctor Madge Badger came up with the idea of using what she called an improved litmus test - a piece of paper drenched in some chemical agents which would change the color if they came into contact with Nighthowler essence. It took us quite a lot of tries to get it right, but after a few weeks, we had found a mixture of substances which fit the bill - it stayed chemically inert, no matter which substance we exposed it to, but once it came into contact with Nighthowler essence, it turned a violent shade of red."

Bogo nodded. "The Badger Test. I heard about it."

"Worked like a charm. The results were both instantaneous and reliable. All you needed was a tiny drop of blood. We went into mass production and sent them to every hospital in Zootopia. And that's basically the end of it. Of the Nighthowler scare, I mean."

"I see. And what about this chart?"

"Well, a few months later, Doctor Badger opened her own lab. To celebrate the occasion, she invited each and every one of us to her lab. We had a few beers or sparkling wine, and at one point, when everyone was quite tipsy, she came up with the idea to test if any of us had Nighthowler essence in their blood. She had a box of those test strips sitting on one of her shelves, and she was eager to give them a go."

Bogo shook his head, carefully hiding his grin.

"It was stupid, really," Peralta continued. "There was no way any of us could have been in contact with Nighthowlers. Just one of those idiotic things you do when you're inebriated. Anyway, my test came back negative. So was Badger's, and it was the same with Professor Mitis, Doctor Afer, and Mr. Gusteau." He made a pause. "And then we got the shocks of our lives."

"What happened?"

"You know one Billy Hopps?"

"I think I do. Isn't he the brother of Lieutenant Hopps?"

"He is. Back then, he was research assistant to Professor Mitis, and he had helped her, and therefore us, quite a lot, so he had been invited, too. And his test came back positive."

"Excuse me?"

"His test came back positive. There definitely was Nighthowler essence in his blood. The test result left no other explanation."

"But he wasn't savage."

"He wasn't, not even remotely."

"But how …?"

"That's exactly what we all wanted to know, including Billy Hopps. So I extracted a bit of blood and examined it. And through spectrographic analysis, I indeed found Nighthowler essence in his blood - exactly 14 parts per billion, unless memory fails me."

"Which, if I understand you correctly, is nowhere near anything that could be considered dangerous."

"Right."

"Where's the limit?"

"We don't know exactly. But the lowest number we had seen in the savage predators was around 1000 parts per billion, in one of the two polar bears. In the otter, the amount was ten times as much."

"Figures. So, how did the Nighthowler essence end up in Hopps's blood?"

"Nobody had any idea, until Billy himself said he might have an explanation. He went home the next day and came back with several blood samples. And we found Nighthowler essence in every single one of them. The highest amount was some 42 parts per billion. We found it in the blood of his father."

Bogo nodded. "Let me guess, the other blood samples came from other relatives of his as well."

"Exactly! His mother and a few of his siblings. The amount of essence in their respective bloodstreams varied, but there was some in all of them, between 12 and 42 parts per billion."

"So your guess is that it's just a natural occurrence for mammals living in the vicinity of Nighthowlers."

"That was my guess, and Billy and I proceeded to try and get to the bottom of it." Peralta pointed at the notebook. "Billy took a sample of his blood at least once a week for more than two years. Those are the results. As you can see, there's quite a lot of fluctuation. The highest amount was 37. That was when he had begun working on his dissertation and started experimenting with Nighthowlers on a daily basis. Then there were periods of time were he did nothing but write the dissertation itself, sitting in his room on Zoo U's campus. That's when the amount dropped as low as 7 parts. Then there's another spike, when he spent a few weeks at home in Bunnyburrow."

"I see. So the closer he is to Nighthowlers, the higher the values are."

"And they dropped significantly when he was nowhere near them."

"What do you say? Something airborne, like pollen or something?"

"That's our guess, too, but we don't actually know exactly. There is no real season for Nighthowlers - as long as the climate conditions are right, they can be planted the whole year long. They're only truly effective when they are in full bloom, which lasts for about four weeks. And once they start to wither, it's over - they're annual, so at one point, they simply die. So they get replaced on a constant basis. They're in use during the whole harvest season, and some farmers even use them in their greenhouses during winter, despite the fact that you're quite unlikely to find many bugs during that time. Be that as it may, there's always a certain amount of Nighthowler pollen in the air in Bunnyburrow, so it's the most logical reason we can think of."

Bogo leaned back. "If I understand you correctly, the Badger Test is so sensitive, it detects even the tiniest amount of Nighthowlers in your blood."

"Even when the concentration is way too low to be harmful, yes." Peralta leaned forward. "Adrian, I don't know what made the cheetah turn savage, but it wasn't Nighthowlers. That one I know for certain. I don't know how it ended up in her bloodstream, but it wasn't through poisoning. And it wasn't anywhere near the amount you need to turn a mammal savage. At times, Billy Hopps had way more essence in his bloodstream, and he was all but savage."

"So what did turn her savage?"

"I really have no clue at the moment."

"Nothing in her blood?"

Peralta snorted. "Oh, there was tons of stuff in her blood. A tiny amount of alcohol, less than 0.01, probably from the night before. I found tetrahydrocannabinol in her …"

"Say what?"

"Cannabis."

"In other words, she was a party girl."

"I'm not too sure about that actually."

"Why?"

"Well, I know she was a heavy smoker - her lungs look terrible, and I found indications of arteriosclerosis in quite an advanced state. But I found no signs of alcohol abuse, so she probably wasn't a heavy drinker. And while there are certain long-term effects of cannabis usage, she had none. I found virtually no traces in her fur, for one, so she can't have been a frequent user. The amount I found in her kidneys was negligible, but there was quite a lot of it in her blood."

"You mean, she was poisoned with it?"

"It's a possibility, yes. I also found an extremely high amount of adrenaline, endorphins, cortisol, all the stuff you'd expect in a highly agitated mammal under a lot of physical or psychological stress. And so many other substances, I don't even know where to begin. And …" he shook his head. "None of the substances I found are poisons, none of them are harmful to the mammal body in any way, shape, or form."

"None?"

"Not a single one of them. There was a lot of stuff you won't find in a mammal's bloodstream under normal circumstances, but none of it posed a danger to her."

"No psychotropic drugs?"

"None that I found."

"How is that possible? What happened to her?"

Peralta sighed. "I have no idea. With your permission, I'm putting the band back together."

"You mean the team that …"

"Badger, Afer, Mitis, Gusteau. I need their help. There were so many foreign substances in her bloodstream, I have no idea where to start." He made a pause. "I found no harmful substances, but that doesn't mean there were none. Maybe what I'm looking at is the result of enzymes who split the poisonous agents apart, once the damage was done, turning them into completely harmless ones. And if so, I have a ton of work to do. I need to identify all the substances, I need to identify what they may have been at one point. I need the team. I can't do it on my own. There's just too much to do."

Bogo nodded. "Permission granted." He made a pause. "So you're certain she was poisoned."

"She most probably was."

"But not with Nighthowlers."

"Not with anything that's even remotely harmful to her."

"So everything the scientist said was true?"

"Looks like it. The antidote itself is certainly harmful enough when used on a mammal that wasn't exposed to Nighthowler essence before. We never tested it, but probability is high that he was right on all accounts."

"In other words, if I go public with this now, the media will skin me raw."

"You can bet they would. You you may be able to tell everyone that the cheetah was, in all likelihood, poisoned, but we don't know with what. And since it wasn't Nighthowlers, they will certainly accuse you of hiding facts."

Bogo gave a harrumph. "I am _always_ hiding facts for investigative purposes! It's only when a case is completely and truly solved that I go public with all the facts. And the press knows this."

"Yes, but a guy like this Takhi …"

"Who's in league with the culprits behind it."

"Do we know this with certainty?"

"He can't have made the interview in such a short amount of time. And his so-called expert probably was a phony."

"And you can proof all this?"

Bogo made a face. "I can certainly tear the interview apart, but the facts themselves are true."

"That's exactly the problem. His article may have been biased, but the facts are true. There was no Nighthowler serum involved. The guys in the hospital's lab applied the Badger Test, it came back positive, so they thought that Nighthowlers were involved, not knowing that the test is so sensitive that it renders the positive false. They should have done a full hemogram."

"So it's the fault of the guys working at the lab, not Pawson's."

"A bit of both, I guess. The lab guys relied on the Badger Test alone, which they shouldn't have, and Pawson did so, too."

"Would you have applied the antidote?"

Peralta narrowed his eyes. "Well, in a savage mammal, we found no adverse side effects which would have endangered the victim. They were just cured. So, in theory, the application should have been harmless. Even during surgery, she should have been fine."

"You could testify to that in front of a medical council?"

"I certainly could. Pawson will face one, right?"

"He suspended himself from office, so there will be a hearing."

Peralta made a face. "Well, even if I do, he can still be accused of professional negligence."

"Which is less worse than professional misconduct."

"That's for the medical council to decide."

"Of course. So, what now?"

Peralta got up, picking up his notebook in the process. "We need to get to the bottom of it, and we need to do so fast. I'm going to make a few phone calls, and maybe I'll be able to tell you more shortly."

"And what shall I do until then? The public's already alerted to the fact that there was a savage predator in their midst! I need to tell them that she was poisoned. I need to …"

Suddenly there was a sound from outside the office.

Both stared at the door. "What was that?" Peralta asked.

"No idea! Sounded like a muffled scream."

The next sound was unmistakable.

" _NOOOO!_ "

Bogo jumped up from his chair and ran towards his office's door, with Peralta in tow.

* * *

 **Hey, my old friend, the cliffhanger, is back! Really thought I had lost him or something! ;-)**

 **So that was the "Hay Fever" chapter. Like I said, it's one of my oldest ideas, and I have always referred to it as such.**

 **"** **But why?" you may be asking. Well, I'm suffering from several allergies, among them house-dust, birch, ragweed, and hazelnut. Oh, and hay and grass. And what do bunnies eat? Yup, hay and grass! Which means for me, it's perennial hay fever season! (Achoo!) It's not that bad - all I do is sneeze, violently, but apart from that, I'm quite fine. Which is why I have no intentions of getting rid of our bunnies any time soon, thank you very much!**

 **But it gave me the idea that there might be Nighthowler essence in mammals who weren't poisoned.**

 **I hid a tiny quote from the movie "Blues Brothers" in here. Shouldn't be hard to find.**

 **And that's it for the moment! Stay tuned for more mayhem by yours truly!**

 **Thanks for reading, and please, send me your reviews, preferably in huge numbers!**

 **Take care!**

 **J.O. aka TheCatweazle**


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